


Safe and Sound

by GretchenMaurice



Category: Wicked - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Hunger Games AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 55,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenMaurice/pseuds/GretchenMaurice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glinda volunteers for glory. Elphaba volunteers for her sister. It only makes sense for Elphaba to kill Glinda on sight when she gets the chance. So what does it mean when she lets the blonde go instead? Hunger Games AU. Gelphie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I got inspired when Mockingjay pt. 2 came out. We'll see where this goes. Enjoy! :)

The mirror leans against the bare wall. It’s simple—tall and rectangular with a couple pictures tucked into the thin wooden frame. They say Gillikin’s other districts have better furniture. They say the rest of Oz has worse.

Glinda Upland sits cross-legged on the floor in front of the mirror and runs a brush through her golden hair, admiring its shine in the soft morning light. The house is still quiet, though she can hear Ama Clutch in the living room, no doubt rocking back and forth in her chair and sipping at her tea. The old woman didn’t sleep last night. Glinda is running on only a few hours herself, but excitement keeps any weariness away. She’s been waiting for this day for the past eighteen years.

It doesn’t take long for her to get ready. A slight curl to her hair, a pale pink dress, just a dab of makeup. She looks soft, maybe even sweet. Her tiny build helps. She smiles at her reflection, teeth and eyes flashing dangerously. Appearances have always worked well for her.

Ama Clutch is in the kitchen when Glinda gets there, humming along to the radio as she spreads jam over a couple slices of toast. The blonde pulls a mug from the cupboard and pours herself water from the kettle.

“There you are, Glinda! Oh, you look _gorgeous_.”

Glinda’s mother hurries across the room to hug her. She’s fretting over Glinda’s outfit in an instant, gushing about how well she’ll look on camera. Her father follows quietly behind, giving his daughter a smile.

“I hope you know we’re proud of you, sweetie,” he says. Ama Clutch scowls as Glinda mumbles out an embarrassed _thank you_. The entire scene is cut off, though, for at that moment the radio starts blaring a short, familiar tune.

“Good morning Pertha Hills!”

Glinda shrugs away from her mother and rushes to the counter to listen closer.

“As mayor of this district, let me be the first to wish you all a happy reaping day! As you all know, the ceremony will be held outside Frottica’s Justice Building. Potential tributes are to report to the square for sign in by…”

Ama slides the plate of toast toward Glinda and walks out of the room. The mayor continues speaking, but Glinda is too busy staring after her to listen.

 

***

 

It’s nearing mid-morning when Glinda reaches Frottica’s main square. The Gale Force are everywhere, standing in clusters of two or three with their guns hanging loosely at their sides. A man grabs her wrist to prick her finger, and Glinda gives him her most disarming smile. His cheeks go red and he stutters just a little as he waves her on.

Glinda strolls into the square with her chin high. Her heels clip against the pavement as she makes her way over to girls’ side of the eighteen year old section. The crowd parts as she moves, the other teenagers stumbling back to get out of her way. The blonde bites back a smirk, but then lets it show. She’s been training her entire life for this—why shouldn’t she enjoy it?

She chooses a spot near the edge of her section and leans against a post, gazing around at everyone. Tiny twelve year olds stand nervously near the front of the crowd, just before the stage that has been set up for the reaping. A line of chairs sits toward the back of the stage, half-filled with official people. The mayor is speaking to a Gale Force member with a badge on their chest. A brightly dressed Emerald City man is practically bouncing in front of a stern-looking woman.

Glinda narrows her eyes, focusing on the woman. She recognizes her, of course. It’s Madame Morrible, Pertha Hills’s most famous victor. She won the Games nearly forty years ago. Going in, no one had expected much from the grumpy young girl who seemed to like books more than anything, but young Morrible had a remarkable talent for sorcery. That, along with a ruthless, almost cruel streak of violence, helped her survive her Games. Now, of course, Morrible’s magic is reduced to pretty tricks for the cameras and the occasional weather spell during the rainy seasons. But Glinda still holds a deep fear and respect for the woman who will soon be her mentor.

Because Glinda Upland _will_ be the girl tribute from Pertha Hills. She stands up straight as the mayor moves to the front of the stage. He starts speaking, reciting the history of the Hunger Games and all of Pertha Hills’ previous winners, but Glinda ignores him and focuses instead on the thousands of little papers resting inside the glass ball on her side of the stage. Seven of those papers hold her name. Seven of those papers are a threat to her.

The mayor finishes and the square echoes with applause. The bouncy Emerald City man—Nikidik is his name—grins as he takes the microphone from the mayor.

“Happy Hunger Games!” Nikidik says. “And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!” He moves over to the glass bowl Glinda has been staring at and reaches in. “Ladies first.”

Seven chances to fail. If Glinda’s name is called, then another girl will volunteer, and her last—her _only_ —chance to compete will be gone.

But there are thousands of names in that bowl, and when Nikidik grabs a paper and reads out loud, Glinda grins.

“Mill—”

“I volunteer!” Glinda calls before he can even finish. Murmurs fly throughout the girls’ section, particularly in the eighteen year olds, but no one dares to protest. Most of them have faced Glinda in training, and they know better than to cross her.

The blonde steps boldly out of the crowd and walks up to the stage. She catches a glimpse of herself on one of the screens that hangs around the square. Her chin is tilted up and her brows are arched. Her hair falls perfectly at her shoulders, not a single strand out of place. She’s small, sure, but she moves with confidence and grace. And her eyes. Her eyes, like the rest of her, look deadly. The sight fills her with an intense, almost painful rush of excitement.

Morrible leans forward, assessing her as she takes the stage, and the blonde resists the urge to smirk. She moves to stand beside Nikidik, who visibly swallows and steps away. Glinda looks out across the crowd. A few of the girls look relieved. The ones her age look angry. Her lips twitch and she looks past them, finding her family. Her parents are beaming at her, eyes shining, but Ama Clutch has her head bowed.

Nikidik calls the boys next. A trembling thirteen year old is called, but almost immediately three older boys volunteer. Glinda watches closely as they sort it out. Multiple volunteers aren’t a rare thing, and they quickly choose who the tribute will be. Glinda doesn’t remember the name of the boy who takes the stage, but she recognizes him from school. He’s dangerous with a belt of knives and decent with a bow, but past that he’s only average. Hardly even a threat. They shake hands and Glinda smirks at him.

The ceremony ends quickly after that. They’re escorted into the Justice Building and placed in separate rooms to wait for visitors. Glinda glides slowly into her room, letting herself admire it while she’s still alone. The carpet is thick beneath her heels. The couches and chairs are clean and soft and made of velvet, which she runs her palm across. This is nothing like the sparse furniture and cramped rooms she grew up in, and the unfamiliarity makes her giddy.

Her parents come in first. Her mother squeals and her father hugs her tight, and Glinda feels that fierce rush of excitement again. But once the smiles have faded and the compliments run out and her father tells her again how proud they are, there’s nothing but awkwardness. Fortunately, the few minutes are up then, and Mr. and Mrs. Upland are beckoned out of the room.

Next comes Ama Clutch, but she holds none of the happiness that Glinda feels. Her fingers hold her purse so tightly that her knuckles have turned white, but she holds herself upright and meets Glinda’s eyes.

Some emotion fills Glinda’s chest, but she can’t quite name it. There is and always has been something about the way Ama looks at her. There’s pride, but it’s quiet, more sincere than her parents. There’s respect, but none of the fear with which her classmates regard her. And then there’s expectation, but again, it’s different from everyone else, as if what Ama Clutch expects from her isn’t for her own gain, but for Glinda’s and Glinda’s alone.

The old woman is quiet, like usual, but there’s no awkwardness between them. When Ama opens up her arms, Glinda steps eagerly into them.

“Don’t worry,” says Glinda. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Ama Clutch puts a hand to her cheek and steps back. “You sound so eager,” she says quietly. Her eyes are full of a sorrow that, to Glinda, seems absurdly out of place.

“Of course I’m eager,” the blonde says. “Why wouldn’t I be? I can handle anything these Games throw at me.”

“I know you’re more than capable.” Ama’s eyes are shining now, holding in tears, and Glinda is more confused than ever. “I’m just not sure you understand what you’re getting into.”

“What do you mean?”

The old woman sighs. “A fight to the death, duckie? Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“Of course! I’ve been training for years, I’m the top of my class, I—”

“I’m not talking about physically. Mentally, emotionally—are you really ready to kill other people?”

Glinda takes a step back now, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s what I’ve been preparing for my whole life.”

Ama shakes her head. “I just want you to be careful. Even if you win, you might not be coming back in one piece.”

“ _When_ I win, it will be an honor,” the blonde says heatedly. Ama Clutch looks at her with something close to disappointment.

“Are you really that excited to throw away your life for something as ridiculous as honor, duckie?”

Glinda scowls. “I’m not throwing my life away. I’ve been training for this for years, Ama. And the winnings I get would help us finally move out of that tiny house. We could live in the Victor’s Village, and we’d never have to worry about food or money or anything ever again. I mean, just look at this place!” She spreads her arms out, gesturing to the room. “We could live like _this_. Everything we own could look like _this_. Everything we would ever want could be ours.”

“And if you don’t win?” the old woman asks softly. “What then?”

A Gale Force member walks in before Glinda can respond. Ama Clutch grasps her hand as if to say something more, but her lips stay pressed firmly together as she’s led out of the room. The door shuts behind them and, for the first time, Glinda feels alone.

 

***

 

It’s not how Glinda wanted to say goodbye, but she pushes the scene from her mind. She’ll be back in a few weeks, and by then their conversation won’t matter at all.

They’re at the train station by noon. It’s crowded with cameras and reporters and Gale Force members. Glinda smiles bright and giggles whenever a reporter asks her a question. The other tribute keeps up with her, but he aims a few looks at her. He’s seen what’s beneath the bubbly exterior. He knows it’s all an act. She meets his gaze and flashes him a grin, already having the time of her life.

They all eat lunch together—Glinda and the other boy, Nikidik, and the two mentors. The train is even more luxurious than the Justice Building, and the food is beyond anything she’s ever seen, but Glinda’s attention is centered on Madame Morrible. Introductions are made, of course, but she brushes aside the boy and his mentor. She knows enough of the boy to know how he fights, and that’s all she needs. Everything else is just a distraction, and she has better things to worry about.

After the meal they split up. Glinda follows Madame Morrible back a few cars until they reach a room with a long, plush couch, a coffee table, and a giant television screen. Morrible goes to a small console beneath the screen and begins pulling up images. Glinda watches the screen as they come up. They are obviously reaping videos. She sees flashes of sturdy, dark-skinned kids from the Vinkan districts, oddly clothed Quadlings, and even a quick flash of a tall girl with, of all things, green skin.

“Who was _that_?” Glinda asks, but the image disappears as another video is pulled up in front of it.

“Before you can begin training, you must know what you’ll be up against,” Morrible says, ignoring her question. “I had someone record and send me the videos of the other districts’ reapings. Your assignment for the day is to watch them all. Pay attention to who your biggest threats will be. When you are done, come find me.” She steps back from the screen and turns to leave.

“Madame, wait!” says Glinda. Morrible looks at her, one eyebrow raised. Glinda swallows, and for the first time that day, she’s nervous. “I—I was wondering. You used magic to win your Games. I…well, I’ve been fascinated with sorcery all my life. I was just…wondering if…if you could teach me—”

“Sorcery,” says Morrible, drawing herself up, “Is not a skill one can simply learn. Either you have the talent, or you don’t. Now I suggest you watch those videos, Miss Upland. We have a lot of work to do.”

She glides out of the train car, the door sliding shut behind her. Glinda stands in the middle of the room, trying not to let the words sting. She clenches her fists and moves to the console to pull up the first video.

“It doesn’t matter,” she tells herself as she snatches the remote and curls up on the couch. “Magic would be nice, but I don’t need it to win.”

Maybe it’s something she’s wanted since she was a little girl. Maybe it’s the only thing that has ever been important—besides being a victor, of course. But there will be plenty of time after the Games to learn sorcery. She brushes off the last of her annoyance and hits play on the remote.

There are twelve reapings in all. Oz is divided into four nations, and each nation is further divided into three districts. Pertha Hills is part of Gillikin, home of the three Career districts, as the rest of Oz likes to call them. They have more money, more food, and more victors. Glinda starts with the other Gillikin reapings, paying close attention.

Two other tributes stick out right away—a boy and a girl, both from the Shiz district. The girl—Shenshen, they call her—reminds Glinda a little of herself. The perfect makeup, fancy dress, and grateful smile is definitely something Glinda can appreciate. But this girl looks older, stronger, and she’s definitely taller. Glinda dresses up to appear innocent, but it seems that Shenshen dresses up to appear deadly. The blonde makes a mental note and replays the video, focusing this time on the boy.

Avaric Tenmeadows. Glinda narrows her eyes. The Tenmeadows family is notorious in the Games. Someone volunteers every generation, and they always win. Avaric doesn’t look like he’ll be an exception. He’s solid and good looking, and well-toned muscles ripple beneath his skin. Glinda zooms the video in to get a better look. His hands are calloused, indicating some sort of melee weapon. His eyes are bright, too, and his constant smirk suggests arrogance. Glinda notes all of this and replays the video one last time, just in case there’s something she missed.

There’s an air of familiarity when Avaric and Shenshen shake hands, and Glinda is instantly certain that there’s an alliance there she’ll have to either join or avoid.

She watches the other Gillikin district and gathers as much as she can from its two tributes before moving on to the Vinkus. The tributes of the Vinkus aren’t as threatening as the Careers, but they shouldn’t be cast aside, either. The Vinkans have been hunters since the beginning of Oz, and really, what are the Games if not one big hunting match? The tributes from these districts are hardy and stern. She makes a note of one boy and girl who seem familiar with each other. If they’re used to hunting with each other…

Next is Quadling Country. Glinda watches their reapings with a hint of disgust. The Quadlings are a strange people, with strange clothes and a strange language. Some of them are strong from working the mines, but most of them are too poor and starved to ever put up a fight.

Rolling her eyes, Glinda chooses the next video and hits play. She sits up straighter when she realizes these are the Munchkinland districts. She remembers the strange green girl she had seen when Morrible was pulling up the videos, and suddenly she’s dying to know more.

She watches the kids line up in front of the stage, watches one of the Gale Force members swing his gun around while the Eminent Thropp recites a few lines, and then watches the Emerald City representative all but skip up to the bowl of names.

“Nessarose Thropp!”

Glinda sits forward. The Thropps are the ruling family of Munchkinland—the green freak is one of them? But to her surprise, it isn’t the green girl who starts walking up to the stage. It’s much worse.

Nessarose Thropp wobbles slowly out of the crowd. Every step seems to take the utmost balance and concentration. Glinda narrows her eyes and zooms in—surely it’s just a trick, a weird angle of the camera…

No, it’s real. The girl has no arms.

“I volunteer!”

The camera spins around, and there is the green girl, pushing her way out of the crowd.

“I volunteer as tribute!”

Glinda stares, mesmerized. This gangly green girl should be a nobody. Her skin stretches tightly over her bones, making her too thin to be a threat. Her features are sharp and seem permanently etched into a glare, making her too ugly to be adored. And yet…

The way she holds herself—tall and fiercely stubborn. The way her silky dark hair twists back into a braid that swishes across her back. The way her scowl softens only when she bends down to Nessarose—who, Glinda realizes, must be her younger sister.

The green girl says a few quick words and hands the younger Thropp off to the old woman who rushes to meet them. _Must be their Ama,_ Glinda thinks, but her attention is brought back to the green girl, who is now climbing the stage. She shoves away the hands of the Gale Force members who reach for her and completely ignores the Emerald City representative who is trying to congratulate her. Behind her, the Eminent Thropp laces his fingers together beneath his chin. His expression, much like the green girl’s, gives away nothing.

But there is something more important that catches Glinda’s attention. Even through the video, she can see the slight ripple in the air surrounding the Thropp girl. The slender green body trembles, and her dark eyes burn with barely contained energy. Glinda pauses the video and walks slowly toward the screen. She should be thinking about threats. She should be figuring out how this girl’s desperation to save her sister will play out in the arena. She should be learning how to best destroy this green freak. But instead, only one thought pulses through her.

_Magic. She has magic._


	2. Chapter 2

She has to replay the video multiple times before she finally pays attention to the boy tribute—a tiny Munchkin named Boq. Every time the clip starts over, she’s immediately drawn to the green girl, whose name she learns is Elphaba Thropp. Glinda spends nearly half an hour focusing on her before realizing there are two other Munchkinland districts to watch.

When she’s done, she makes her way back to the car they had lunch in. The table has been mostly cleared, though there’s still a bowl of fruit and a meat and cheese tray. Madame Morrible is sitting at one side, writing on a notepad. She looks up as Glinda enters the room.

“Your biggest threat,” says the older woman. “Who is it?”

The blonde starts to respond, then pauses. Morrible raises an eyebrow, and Glinda swears she can feel her gaze going straight through her. She thinks carefully before trying again. “I’m not sure there is a biggest threat, Madame. First impressions say the Tenmeadows boy. But I could just as easily be taken down by another tribute, or the Gamemakers, or even my own mistakes. There is no _biggest_ threat. I have to treat them all equally, don’t I?”

There’s a long pause as Morrible continues to study her. “So you do have brains,” she says finally. “Good. You’ll need them. Come sit down.”

Glinda takes the seat across from her and sits gingerly, her hands folded carefully in her lap. Morrible sets her notepad down and leans forward.

“Let’s discuss what you’ve noticed. You mentioned Tenmeadows—start with him.”

Without hesitation, the blonde starts rattling off things she noticed. “He’s obviously tough. He looks like he handles primarily melee weapons—probably a sword—but that doesn’t mean he’s limited to that. And on top of whatever strength he has, he’s attractive. He’ll be a favorite in the Emerald City, without a doubt.”

“And the girl from that district?”

“The same. Attractive, fierce…they’ll have an alliance, too.”

Morrible nods approvingly and waves at her to go on. Glinda continues to describe the tributes she saw, trying to remember everything she had noticed. Morrible writes some notes down and gives the occasional interjection.

“There was one pair from the Vinkus who seemed really familiar with each other,” Glinda says, thinking back. “Fiyero was the boy, and the girl was…”

“Sarima,” says Morrible. “From the Grasslands District, right? A good observation, Miss Glinda. If they stick together, and are used to having each other’s backs, then they’ll be nearly as dangerous as the other Careers.”

Glinda nods and keeps going. They don’t discuss the Quadlings too much, although there are a couple boys who seem big enough to put up a fight. But then they get to Munchkinland, and Glinda hesitates.

“There was…in the Nest Hardings district…”

“Ah, yes. Miss Thropp.”

There’s something in Morrible’s tone that makes the blonde look up. “Do you know her?”

The mentor seems to think about it. “I know _of_ her. But tell me, Miss Glinda, what did you notice about her?”

“She’s green.” It sounds dumb, Glinda knows, but she’s still too mesmerized by this girl to think of much else. She clears her throat. “I mean, her skin. The Emerald City will love her just for that.”

Morrible makes a noise in the back of her throat. “What else?”

“She has magic.”

“How observant, Miss Glinda.”

Glinda bites her lip and forces herself to think. “She’s a Thropp, so she’ll have grown up with more than most other Munchkinland tributes. She’s obviously brave, and probably stubborn, to volunteer for her sister like that. And…well, the magic thing again. That gives her an advantage, doesn’t it?”

Morrible clasps her hands under her chin and sighs. “Let me tell you what I know of Elphaba Thropp. She was born with her abilities—as well as her green skin—but no one knows why. The magical community in Oz is limited, so we’ve kept an eye on Miss Thropp. She has no power over her magic, and apparently has no desire to learn any. You saw the way she acted at the reaping. The energy surrounding her may have seemed intimidating, but it was simply her emotions manifesting themselves in a way she could not control.”

Glinda thinks about how the green girl trembled while on stage. “That could be even more dangerous,” the blonde says.

“Yes,” says Morrible. “My advice regarding Miss Thropp is to just stay away from her. It shouldn’t be too hard. She’ll destroy herself before the Games get too far in.”

“But…her skin. She’ll have countless supporters in the Emerald City.”

“Will she?” Now Morrible just looks smug. “That family has been known to cause unrest in the Munchkinland districts. It has never been anything worth worrying about, but the Thropps are not well liked in the Emerald City. Think about how Miss Elphaba looked. She was furious at her reaping. Like you said, she’s stubborn. She will play no part in these Games—not willingly. Her skin may be a novelty but…” Morrible shakes her head and smirks. “Besides, you saw her. An ugly, angry green bean? She’ll lose every fan she has by the end of your first day in the city.”

Glinda glances at the clock on the wall. They’ll spend tonight on the train and arrive in the Emerald City the next morning, where they’ll be put immediately in the hands of their stylists to prepare for the opening ceremonies. Everything suddenly seems so fast and it makes Glinda’s head whirl, though not in an unpleasant way. She grabs a strawberry from the bowl on the table and continues discussing with Morrible, barely even noticing how, out the window, her district has all but disappeared.

 

***

 

She doesn’t see much of her fellow tribute for the rest of the day, though at some point she hears and tries to remember that his name is Jeron. They all eat dinner together, but Nikidik and the mentors keep up most of the conversation.

Glinda is perfectly fine with this. She’s been planning out her Games for as long as she can remember, and she decided years ago not to even bother with alliances. What’s the point, really, of having a connection with someone? Once in the arena, it will only come down to who will kill the other first.

They’re given free time after dinner. Glinda takes a small bowl of ice cream—a treat she’s only allowed on extremely special occasions back home—and, for the sake of being sentimental, a glass of Pertha Hills’ finest wine. She wanders back to the car with the big screen and settles down with her dessert to re-watch the reapings.

One after another, she goes through each of the other tributes. She pictures facing them, imagines how she could take them down. With that Avaric boy, she’ll have to be quick enough to stay out of his reach. Same with Shenshen and most of the other Careers. The boy from her district, though—Jeron—he’ll be different. She’s seen how he fights, and she knows that he’s most deadly with ranged weapons.

Glinda wonders vaguely if he’s sitting in some other part of the train right now, thinking about how to best kill her. The thought amuses her, and she giggles into her wine glass as she takes a sip and moves on to the Vinkus reapings.

For the most part, tributes are easy to classify. Careers, the most deadly and most likely to win, are from Gillikin. Tributes from the Vinkus are the second most dangerous, used to hunting and surviving and killing, though not when up against other people. Quadling Country and Munchkinland are a bit of a tossup. Quadlings will be a little tougher from working the mines, and once in a while their strange clothes and accents will be something of a trend in the Emerald City, but they’re also more likely to be too underfed to survive past the first few days. The Munchkins, on the other hand, are farmers. A lot of their produce goes out to feed the rest of Oz, but they still have more food than the Quadlings. Most of the time they’re proficient with tools and have good endurance, but they’re so small—even smaller than Glinda—so really, what chance do they have in a straight up fight?

Except for that Elphaba girl. Glinda pauses the video to stare at her, suddenly realizing why she actually wanted to watch the reapings again. There’s just something about her that doesn’t quite make sense. Maybe it’s the magic. Maybe it’s the fact that, if what Morrible says is true, this girl will practically self-destruct within the next week. But Glinda doesn’t think that’s it. At least, that’s not the only thing…

The blonde dozes off on the couch twice before finally getting up and moving to her car for the night. The bed in her room is unbelievably comfortable, and she barely kicks her shoes off before she collapses into the pillows. She falls asleep instantly and dreams of running through an arena made entirely of green.

 

***

 

The next morning, Glinda wakes early enough to see the beginning of the sunrise outside the window of her train car. She stares at the sky for a while, but the moment of peace just makes her impatient, so she slips out of bed and starts getting ready for breakfast instead.

Nikidik tells them the schedule for the day while they eat, talking excitedly about their stylists and the opening ceremony. Glinda’s excited, too. A chance to dress up and show off for all of Oz? Of course, she’ll be showing off enough in the arena. But here she doesn’t even have to get her hands dirty.

Soon enough, they’re pulling into the Emerald City. Glinda and Jeron both rush to the windows to watch, though they keep their distance from each other. Nikidik is delighted by their enthusiasm, and he points out different people and places as they pass by.

The station is overflowing with people straining to get to the train. For a long moment all Glinda can do is stare. The people of the Emerald City seem endless. Every single one of them glimmers with jewels or makeup, and most are wearing some small bit of green. The blonde is fascinated with the clothes, the shoes, the wigs, the purses—all of it.

And they seem just as fascinated by her. People are calling her by name as soon as she steps onto the platform. Her head spins, but Glinda has always done well with attention. She lets the wonder she feels show, staring around in overwhelmed awe for a moment or two before breaking out in her most dazzling smile. She waves at the crowd, blowing kisses and mouthing thank yous. She even curtsies once or twice, though she also ducks her head as if to hide her blush.

Beside her, Jeron is doing pretty well, too. Glinda decides against fighting him for attention and instead just pretends not to notice. The citizens of the Emerald City soak them up as they’re escorted past, and Glinda can practically feel herself glowing.

Nikidik ushers them into a long car that will take them to the Remake Center, and the process of getting ready for the opening ceremonies begins.

Glinda’s prep team is in awe of her and, honestly, the feeling is mutual. They touch her hair and her skin and shower her in compliments while she studies them quietly, admiring their odd Emerald City fashions. She doesn’t know exactly what to say while they wash her down and get her ready for her stylist, so she plays up the shy routine—tiny giggles, looking away to hide a fake blush. It makes them adore her even more, and the blonde has to push down the pride that rushes through her.

After a couple hours with the prep team, Glinda is scrubbed down and shined up. Her hair is softer than it’s ever been and smells like strawberries. Her skin is silky to the touch, courtesy of a rich, vanilla scented lotion. Her legs are smooth and they’ve put the slightest bit of makeup on her eyes, “To make them brighter!” one of them exclaims.

They leave her alone in the room after that, and she sits on a cool metal table in nothing but a fluffy robe. Glinda kicks her bare feet back and forth, admiring the clear polish that gives her toenails just a little bit of shine.

The door to the room slides open a few minutes later, and she looks up as a young woman walks in. Glinda adores her from the start—the wild mane of dark curls that is pushed back from her face, the elegant cheekbones, the splash of freckles across her collarbone. She can’t be more than a few years older than Glinda, but the blonde recognizes her from past years.

“Glinda,” the woman says, walking forward and grasping her hand. “How lovely it is to meet you. I’m Dina. I’ll be your stylist for the Games.”

Dina grabs a chair and sits across from Glinda. The blonde continues to stare, noticing more and more details about her stylist. She has a streak of deep, forest green going through her hair, and her eyes seem to glitter like emeralds. _That can’t be real,_ Glinda thinks. Dina smiles, as if reading her mind.

“As you can imagine, green is pretty popular here,” she says. “But let’s talk about _you_. We must have you at your best out there tonight, yes?”

The blonde nods quietly. She tries to meet Dina’s strange eyes, but finds it too difficult and looks down at her own hands instead.

“Right there,” says Dina. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“What?” Glinda asks, looking up again with confusion. Dina stands and motions for her to do the same. She circles around Glinda as she talks.

“I’ve been watching you, Glinda. You were adorable when you first got on the train, and absolutely _precious_ when you arrived here in the city. The prep team was simply gushing to me about how shy and sweet you are. I have no doubt that the entire Emerald City is currently doing the same. But I saw you volunteer at your reaping. You didn’t look shy, or precious, or anything close to it. You looked deadly _._ ”

“I _am_ deadly,” Glinda says, an edge to her voice. Dina smirks.

“Exactly. But you’re also tiny, and you’ve learned how to play it up for your advantage, haven’t you?”

The blonde shifts around but says nothing.

“Come on,” says Dina, beckoning her out of the room. “I think I know just the thing.”

 

***

 

Evening finds Glinda standing at the bottom of the Remake Center. Next to her, Jeron’s stylist is perfecting his makeup. He’s in a crisp white suit with an emerald-colored vest and tie. Glinda can’t help but admit he looks good.

Of course, she looks better. She looks down and twists a little bit, watching the skirt of her dress whirl from side to side. The dress is pure white, like Jeron’s suit, with an emerald sash around her waist. The neckline doesn’t dip too low and the skirt hangs just above her knees.

“Remember,” Dina tells her as she places a jeweled clip in her hair. “Innocent. Shy. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing, and they’ll be crazy about you.”

Glinda nods and lets herself be helped onto the chariot that will pull them through the city and up to the Wizard’s palace. Their prep teams rush around them, perfecting tiny little details, but Glinda ignores them and looks around at the other chariots.

There’s a Quadling pair that glitters red, like the rubies they mine, but Glinda can’t remember their names. She leans forward to try to find someone she does recognize and catches a glimpse of Shenshen, whose deep red dress is so divine she looks as though she’s lived here all her life. Unlike Glinda, though, her gown is skin-tight and leaves little to the imagination. She meets the blonde’s eyes and smirks, blowing her a kiss.

Glinda pretends not to notice and keeps looking around. Fiyero and Sarima are both dressed in deep, earthy tones, with the occasional streak of gold or silver sewn in. Another Vinkan pair wears exotic-looking animal furs. Toward the back of the room, most of the Munchkins are teetering around in ridiculously high heeled shoes, just so they can see over the tops of their chariots.

There’s one Munchkin tribute, though, that doesn’t need the height advantage. Elphaba Thropp stands next to her carriage, her arms crossed over her chest. She seems stiff and angry—though maybe, Glinda muses, that’s just how she acts when nervous. The green girl looks as though she’s going to flat out refuse to get into her chariot, but a Goat walks up and says something to her. She tilts her head down toward him and, after a moment, unfolds her arms, relaxing her posture.

She moves toward her chariot and, in doing so, turns in Glinda’s direction. The blonde takes the opportunity to study her outfit. She’s dressed in all black, which is strangely complimentary to the green. Her dress hugs her skinny frame and covers most of her skin. She wears shiny black boots that reach halfway up her shins, and she has a thick, billowing cloak that flutters behind her every time she moves.

But now the green girl meets her eyes, and Glinda knows she’s been caught. Elphaba raises a single eyebrow in her direction, and her lips twitch up into a smirk. Without looking away, she reaches into her chariot, pulls something out, and places it on top of her head.

Now Glinda is truly mesmerized. The hat Elphaba has grabbed would seem ridiculous anywhere else, on anyone else. But the pointed top makes her noticeable, and when she tugs it into place, the wide brim casts a shadow over her face, making her sharp features even more angled. She looks dangerous. She looks mysterious. Somehow, before Glinda’s very eyes, the green girl has become…captivating.

“Alright, they’re lining up,” says Nikidik, who appears behind Glinda with the two mentors. Morrible looks her up and down but doesn’t say anything. Dina gives Glinda’s hand a squeeze before stepping away.

A team of Horses pulls their chariot into place behind the other two Gillikin districts. In the split second after the doors open, before they begin to move, she meets Jeron’s eyes. He gives her a tiny, determined nod. She returns it, and then they both look away, focusing instead on the roar of the crowd that is just outside, waiting to see them.

They pull out into the street, and for the first few moments it’s absolutely deafening. All Glinda can see is people—waving arms and beaming faces and bodies leaning forward on tiptoe to get a better view of them. And the _voices,_ all screaming and calling their names, cheering them on as they ride past. It’s far more overwhelming than the train station, and a thousand times better. Glinda doesn’t even have to think. She just moves—waving, blowing kisses, reaching out as if to brush the hands of the people straining to touch her. There’s not much more she can do with the chariots speeding so quickly through the streets, but she smiles all the way through the city, soaking up every bit of attention she attracts.

The chariots start to slow and before Glinda knows it, they’ve moved into a semi-circle just outside the Wizard’s palace. A hush falls over the crowd as everyone looks up at the balcony above the tributes. A short, balding man in a deep emerald suit walks up to the railing. He smiles and raises a hand in greeting before launching into an official welcome and opening speech.

Glinda has seen the Wizard before, of course, but he seems significantly less impressive in person. Maybe it’s just because he’s so high up, so he appears smaller. Either way, Glinda barely pays attention to his words. The speech doesn’t last long, anyway, and soon music is blaring from speakers she can’t even see. The crowd roars again, and Glinda lets herself sneak a few glances at the other chariots while they’re still in place.

Avaric and Shenshen are soaking up every bit of attention, charming the crowd with everything they have. Fiyero and Sarima look menacing, though their hands are clasped together, down inside the chariot where the audience can’t see. A few of the Quadlings and Munchkins are smiling convincingly, but some of them just look terrified.

And then there’s the green girl, who looks ready to jump at each and every member of the audience. She seems especially hateful toward the Wizard. The air ripples around her as she glares up at him. The Munchkin sharing her chariot—Boq—looks up at her and says something. He touches her wrist but she jerks away.

Glinda tears her eyes away and turns her attention back to the crowd, blowing kisses and giving tiny curtsies. They start moving again, this time toward the Training Center. They’ve barely made it inside when Dina grabs Glinda and yanks her into a hug. Everyone from their little Pertha Hills group is fluttering around them, pouring out praises, but the blonde’s focus is elsewhere.

Across the room, Elphaba tears off her hat and jumps down from her chariot. She shoves past her stylist and marches straight toward the elevators that will take her to her floor. Her prep team starts muttering angrily, and the Gale Force officers who are posted in the room give her dangerous looks, but she appears not to notice. Elphaba steps into the elevator with Boq and the Goat from earlier. Glinda watches as Boq stands on his toes to whisper something to her. Just before the door closes, the green girl meets her eyes again.

“Miss Glinda.” Morrible’s voice is impatient. “Come on. We’re going up now.”

Glinda blinks and follows the others into another elevator. Nikidik is babbling about their schedule for tomorrow, and Morrible says something about discussing strategies at breakfast. Glinda nods absentmindedly. Elphaba’s gaze—that quick glimpse of dark, smoldering rage—still burns in her mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Glinda feels fuzzy when she wakes up the next morning. Her body feels heavy and it takes a few seconds to blink the sleep from her eyes. She doesn’t remember waking up or even dreaming, but the sheets are twisted around her and crumpled at the foot of the bed, so she knows she’s been tossing and turning all night.

She wanders to the bathroom and fights the urge to take a shower—she took one last night, but the endless buttons that release bubbly soaps and scented oils are so tempting the blonde wants to do it again. Instead she settles for washing her face and pulling her hair up into a ponytail. Her bangs stay down, framing her face and hanging just above her jaw. For a moment Glinda stares at herself, alternating between her best smile and her coldest glare. She likes the effect.

Breakfast is served in the main room of their floor. There’s no sign of Jeron and his mentor, but Madame Morrible is sitting in a booth in the corner, sipping at a tall glass of deep red juice.

Glinda fills a plate with toast and fruit and sits down across from her. “So…what’s my plan?” she asks. “For training?”

“What is your worst weapon?” Morrible sounds bored.

The blonde immediately scowls. “I don’t have a worst weapon,”

“I don’t care how good you think you are, Miss Glinda,” Morrible says, narrowing her eyes. “There will be something in that training room that you have no idea how to use.”

The blonde crosses her arms over her chest. “So? I’m a fast learner.”

“Then learn fast,” says Morrible. “That will be your first day of training. Try things you’ve never done or you’re not the best at—but stick to weapons.”

“What about survival skills?” Glinda asks, somewhat reluctantly. “Aren’t you going to tell me to practice the boring stuff, too?”

“That _boring stuff_ is what will keep you alive after the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, so yes. That will be your second day.”

“And my third day?”

Morrible raises an eyebrow. “Whatever you see fit. I trust your judgment. I have one rule, though. What’s your best weapon?”

“A dagger,” Glinda says automatically. “Sometimes two. The longer kind.”

“Good.” Morrible nods. “That’s good. Small, quick, yet just as deadly as any other blade. Do not touch one until your private assessment. Understand?”

“Won’t it seem suspicious if I practice with everything but a dagger?”

Morrible narrows her eyes again. “ _Fine._ But don’t show the others how good you are.”

She picks up her glass and stalks off. The blonde wishes she could read Morrible—one minute the mentor seems to be approving of her, and the next she seems to hate her. But she shrugs it off. Once she’s in the arena, it doesn’t matter. Morrible will help her get sponsors no matter how much she likes her. It’s her job. Besides, if Glinda wins then that’s just another success for Morrible.

Around mid-morning, Nikidik escorts Glinda and Jeron below ground to the training rooms. Half of the tributes are already there, and it’s only a few minutes before the rest trickle in behind them. Elphaba and Boq are the last to arrive. A few other tributes snicker when the green girl walks in, but if she hears, she doesn’t show it.

A stern-looking woman gathers them around and tells them the procedure for the next three days. There are dozens of different stations, all teaching a different skill. Each of them has one or two teachers, and there are assistants to spar with if needed. The Gamemakers will be in and out, assessing them throughout the next three days. But most importantly, there is no fighting with other tributes. The woman scowls around at them after saying the last part.

Not that it matters, Glinda thinks. In three days they’ll all be delivered to the arena no matter what state they’re in. But she doesn’t want to fight anyone here. In fact, as the tributes split off and head to different stations, Glinda does her best to avoid close contact with all of them.

She keeps an eye on everyone, though. The other Gillikin tributes go straight for the deadliest weapons. Avaric grabs an ax that looks taller than half the Munchkins and starts decapitating every dummy within reach. A few yards away, Shenshen is wielding two small swords and taking on three assistants at a time with ease. Fiyero and Sarima move through the stations together, though they don’t talk much. They’re both decent with bows and short, curved swords, and at one point Glinda catches them laughing as they pass by a station that teaches how to set up snares.

The blonde looks around the room, wondering where to go first. There are stations with every skill imaginable: setting traps, hunting, tying knots, making fire and shelter, fighting with swords or spears or axes or a bow and arrow or any other weapon ever heard of. There’s even a corner of the room devoted to magic skills, though Glinda forces herself to stay away from it.

Instead, she grabs a belt of throwing knives and wanders over to a series of targets. She can feel the other Careers eyeing her, sizing her up. It feels like her first year of academy all over again. She remembers all too clearly the sneers of her classmates. Even back then, she was smaller than everyone else her age. But she was fast and clever and above all, determined. By the time they were halfway through their second year, everyone knew not to underestimate her.

The other tributes will learn that, too, but for now she’s content to be seen as the little girl from Pertha Hills. She throws a couple knives and they stick, but not anywhere near the target’s center. When she looks up again Jeron is watching her. He avoids the ranged weapons, though, probably saving them for his private session. Glinda picks up another knife and winks at him.

At lunch Glinda sits by herself. The other Gillikin tributes—Jeron included—have taken over a table near the end of the dining hall. Their laughter echoes around the otherwise silent room, and though Glinda can’t hear what they’re saying, she’s certain it’s all just a contest to see who can sound the most impressive.

The other tributes sit alone or in pairs, but even the pairs are quiet. Fiyero and Sarima move naturally around each other but only speak once or twice that she sees. A few tables away, Boq seems to be failing to have a conversation with Elphaba. Glinda watches as the Munchkin continues to slide food across the table, but the green girl isn’t eating.

The blonde realizes that she should be paying attention to all the tributes, not just the threatening ones. So when training resumes, she moves over to a raised sparring rink where she can practice hand-to-hand combat and, more importantly, see the entire training room.

She watches a Quadling boy fumbling with a pile of twigs and some flint, while another one sets several small snares with ease. A gangly Vinkan girl weaves a small net out of dried grass. Across the room, another tribute trips over himself and falls on his butt in a sparring ring, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.

Most of the Munchkinlanders stick to smaller weapons and swing shakily at their dummies. A couple of them enter the target range with slings and a bag of rocks, and one girl turns out to be pretty good with a crossbow. Even some of the Careers seem interested as she sinks her bolts into the targets.

Without realizing it, Glinda finds herself looking around for the green girl. She sees Boq first, but he’s alone with a dagger and a dummy. The poor boy is trembling from head to toe, and he swings wildly, nearly dropping his weapon every time it makes contact. Glinda rolls her eyes and keeps searching.

She thinks to look over at the sorcery station, and sure enough the green girl is there. An instructor is standing next to her, talking and slowly thrusting his arm out. Elphaba repeats the motion, and a burst of fire shoots out of her palm. It hits the target in front of her, but before the instructor can even speak the flames blaze brighter, catching and burning everything along that wall.

Two assistants rush forward and quickly put out the fire, but Elphaba seems to shrink in on herself, backing away. She retreats to a knot-tying station, her skin paling until it’s more grey than green. Nearby, Shenshen and Avaric watch her, fighting back laughter.

Glinda turns back to her own station, where the instructor is pointing out the most common pressure points on the body. This is old information for her, though, so she slips away and decides to swing an ax at a dummy for a while.

 

***

 

Glinda spends her second day of training practicing survival skills, like Morrible told her. She learns more than she thought she would, and by the end of the day she’s mastered a dozen or so knots, a few simple snares, and how to build a fire. She also learns the basics of making and camouflaging a shelter, and she’s able to recognize almost all of the edible plants on the scavenging test.

She continues to study the other tributes. She was right about Avaric being good at melee weapons, but he’s also good at wrestling and throwing a spear. Glinda notices, though, that he never picks up anything smaller than a mace. He doesn’t touch any swords, either, and the blonde makes a guess that that’s his primary weapon. Meanwhile, Shenshen seems unstoppable with anything fast and sharp, but she gets frustrated every time she picks up a ranged weapon.

An alliance has formed, and Avaric and Shenshen are at the head of it. Glinda steers clear of them all, but Jeron is quickly welcomed in, along with the other two Gillikin tributes. They try to approach Fiyero and Sarima, but both Vinkans brush them off—rather boldly, Glinda thinks.

They pick up a willowy Vinkan girl and, by lunchtime on the second day, the group seems to have solidified. Most of the others stay away from the alliance, but there’s one Munchkin girl—the one who was good with the crossbow—that keeps eyeing them.

Glinda watches her, wondering what she’s thinking. She tries to remember the girl’s reaping but can’t think of much other than that her dress was pretty. The Munchkin might be good with a crossbow, but does she really think she has a chance?

Apparently she does, because she stares at the alliance with a mix of longing and determination before standing up. She heads over to the carts of food as if to get another plate. Glinda looks over and sees Elphaba walking away from the carts with a full tray, and suddenly she realizes what’s going to happen.

The crossbow girl passes Elphaba and, at the last moment, sticks her foot out. She catches Elphaba’s ankle, sending her crashing to the ground.

There’s a beat of silence, and then the room explodes with laughter. Most of it comes from Avaric and Shenshen’s table, but there are a few jeers from the other tributes. The two Gale Force members assigned to watch them rush forward, but Elphaba gets up without their help and shoves past them. Her face turns a darker shade of green and the air ripples around her as she sits down.

That afternoon, the Careers approach the crossbow girl while she’s swinging a knife at a dummy. By the end of the day she’s following them around like a puppy, a wicked smirk never quite leaving her face.

 

***

 

The third and final day of training comes, and Glinda isn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She spends the morning wandering around, trying out a few weapons just to have something to do. They’ll begin their private sessions at lunch, and she’s itching to get her hands on the rack of daggers that she’s been eyeing for the past two days.

The other tributes move restlessly through the room, trying to cram in a few more skills. Avaric, Shenshen, and she rest of their group hang around a sparring ring, looking bored. Boq the Munchkin tries his luck with a slingshot and actually manages to hit the target once or twice. It’s the most skill he’s shown all week, and he looks close to tears by the time he gives up and sets the weapon aside.

The green girl is stoic that day. She spends most of her time back at the sorcery station, where the instructor seems glad to have her, though he is a bit wary. Elphaba seems to be doing better today, but there’s still a hint of energy around her. When lunch comes around, Boq tries and fails once again to get her to eat, but she refuses.

She isn’t the only one. Everyone looks at least a little nervous—even the Careers, though they try to hide it behind arrogance. When Avaric’s name is called, the first out of all the tributes, he stands up with a smirk, but Glinda watches his hands tremble as he walks into the training room.

Glinda is the last Career to be called. She stands when she hears her name, taking a deep breath and smoothing her shirt. The others are watching her, and she lets them see a small, nervous girl walk slowly out of the room.

As soon as she’s in sight of the Gamemakers, though, she stands up tall and moves forward with confidence. She feels their eyes on her as she marches straight toward the rack of daggers. She runs her fingers along a few before choosing one and pulling it from the rack. It’s gorgeous, with a glinting silver blade and jewels set into the hilt. But she doesn’t take the time to admire it. Instead she tosses it from hand to hand, adjusting to the weight of it. After a moment she puts it back and grabs the one next to it.

This one feels better, more natural in her palm. The blade is about as long as her forearm, just like the ones she uses back home. Glinda shifts her grip on the weapon before taking a few practice swings. Once it feels right she looks at the Gamemakers up in their balcony, watching her.

“May I have a sparring partner?” she asks with a tiny smile. They nod and someone presses a button and speaks into a microphone. A nearby door opens and out comes a boy in a soldier’s uniform.

Glinda scowls. The boy is a little taller than her, but he’s scrawny and his smirk irritates her. His sword swings loosely in his hand. She gives the Gamemakers a look, and a couple of them chuckle.

She turns back to the boy and lets out a noise of disgust. “Honestly,” she mutters. “What kind of weasel hole did they pick you up from?”

The boy’s smirk shifts into a glare. He lifts his weapon and beckons her forward. Glinda narrows her eyes and steps within reach, but before the boy can even swing she grabs his wrist and tugs him forward. She twists her grip on his hand and, with a sharp, sickening _crack_ , he drops his sword. She shoves him back with the handle of her blade.

“May I have a sparring partner that’s actually worth my time?” she asks, smiling sweetly up at the Gamemakers again. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the boy cradling his wrist and stumbling away.

 

***

 

That evening finds the entire Pertha Hills crew in the main room of their floor, gathered around the television screen. Any minute now their training scores will be announced.

Jeron and his mentor are off to the side discussing the past three days. Morrible is nearby, but she’s more focused on the screen than Glinda. The blonde sits in front of Dina, who is pulling her hair into different styles, testing things out for the upcoming interview.

Glinda stares up at the television. Two young men—the official commentators for the Games—have been bouncing around the screen for the last twenty minutes, interviewing Gamemakers and old tributes and some of the Emerald City’s more well-known citizens. Normally their flirtatious banter and wit is charming, but Glinda is impatient for the end of the program.

Finally the boys settle down in front of the camera. The taller one, Crope, put his arm around the other.

“Well, Tibbett, it appears our time is up,” he says. Tibbett pouts.

“How disappointing. But I’m sure everyone out there is eager to see the scores of this year’s lovely tributes. So let’s cut back to the station for those, and we’ll see you all in a couple days for the interviews!”

“Good night Oz!”

Music starts playing and the screen goes dark. Glinda leans forward and she feels Dina’s hands go to her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly.

One by one, the names of the tributes are announced and their pictures are shown, followed by their score. The numbers range from one to twelve, although Glinda has never seen anyone get either of those.

Avaric’s name is announced first, and he pulls a ten. So does Shenshen. When Jeron’s name is called, they show an eight. Glinda holds her breath, waiting.

Nine.

She clenches her fists but forces a smile. How did she only get a nine? She broke a boy’s wrist, for Oz’s sake! And after that she fought soldier after soldier, none of them so much as touching her.

But the scores are still showing, and there’s nothing to be done about it. At least this can help keep up her innocent act. Besides, once she’s in the arena the audience will see what she can do, and then her score will hardly matter.

The rest of the tributes are announced. Sarima gets a seven, and Fiyero pulls an eight. The Vinkan girl who has joined the Careers also gets an eight. Most of the Quadlings pull fours and fives. So do the Munchkins, although the crossbow girl—Pfannee, they say as her picture is shown—gets a seven.

Then comes the boy from Nest Hardings district, Boq. He looks short even in his picture, but it’s still a surprise when his number flashes across the screen.

Two.

Jeron laughs, along with his stylist and mentor. Nikidik hushes them, saying something about how Boq could be trying to look bad on purpose. But Glinda knows better. She saw him in training. It’s not an act. The Munchkin boy is truly hopeless.

She supposes she should feel happy. One less opponent to worry about. But if it’s not a fair fight, what’s the point? Glinda’s starting to feel something oddly like pity when the green girl’s picture flashes across the screen, followed quickly by the number nine.

“ _Nine_?” Glinda hisses. “How did the vegetable score a _nine_?”

“Magic,” Jeron says, though he’s scowling at the screen, too. “She probably blew half the training room up or something.”

The blonde glares at him before climbing to her feet and storming off. Dina and Madame Morrible call her name, but she slams the door to her room, cutting them off. She marches straight for the bed, pausing only to kick the nightstand when she passes it.

It’s not _fair_. She’s been training all her life. She was flawless in front of the Gamemakers. How could some freak from a farming district get the same score as her? Morrible had said that the green girl would destroy herself, but apparently her time spent in the sorcery station has paid off.

Or maybe it hasn’t. Maybe Elphaba was useless in front of the Gamemakers, but they gave her a high score to make her a target. It makes sense, especially if what Morrible said about the Thropp family is true. Or if the Gamemakers also think Elphaba will self-destruct within the first week. What a show that would be. Glinda can picture it now—Avaric and his goons cornering the green girl, only to have her panic and lose control, killing herself and at least a couple other tributes.

Glinda flops back onto the mattress and glares up at the ceiling. _A nine_ , she thinks, curling her hands into fists around the bed sheets. Avaric and the others might go after the green girl now, but Glinda is faster, and she knows better than to get herself blown up. She’ll get there first.

Because whether she realizes it or not, Elphaba Thropp has just made things personal. And as soon as they get in the arena, Glinda vows, she’s going to hunt the green freak down and kill her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Games start in this chapter, so here's your warning for death, violence, etc.

Glinda doesn’t leave her room for the rest of the night. For the longest time, she doesn’t even leave her bed. She lays there, silent and brooding and imagining the different ways she can take out the green girl.

After a while she calms down and her glare softens into a slight scowl, not that the ceiling particularly cares. As her anger starts to fade, she imagines Ama Clutch’s voice.

_Now, duckie, was all that really worth it?_

She pictures the old woman looking down at her, stern yet kind. But then she remembers her last conversation with Ama.

_Are you really ready to kill other people?_

Glinda jumps to her feet and pushes away from the bed, shoving away the image of tears filling Ama Clutch’s eyes. She stomps into the bathroom, breathing hard, and punches a few buttons on the panel in the shower. A minute later she’s standing under the spray, letting the hot, soapy water wash over her.

“I’m ready,” she mutters to herself. Her eyes slide shut and she takes a deep breath, focusing on the feeling of water dripping down her skin. “I’m ready for these Games.”

But was it worth it to make a target out of a single tribute?

Glinda thinks about it. It seems childish, maybe, but surely it’s justified. It’s one thing for the blonde to only get a nine in training, but as if that isn’t bad enough, she was put at the same level as some girl from _Munchkinland._ Getting the same score as other Careers—and maybe even a few Vinkans—makes sense. But the green freak? No way.

She tries to imagine how Elphaba’s role in the Games will play out. With a score as good as or better than half the Careers, she’ll definitely be a target of the alliance that Avaric is leading. Being anywhere near the green girl would mean being near that pack of tributes, which isn’t exactly ideal. But it would also mean that Glinda knows where most of her biggest threats are, which could be useful. And if the green girl panics and loses control, and if the alliance pack is close enough, and Glinda plays it just right…

The blonde shakes her head. It’s no use planning out details now, not when she has no idea what will actually happen in the arena. But her anger has faded into certainty now, and her mind has been made.

All the Emerald City wants is a good show, anyway. And she’s sure they’ll enjoy watching her hunt down the green freak.

 

***

 

Glinda feels better when she wakes up the next morning and, for the most part, her good mood lasts throughout the day.

She spends the morning with Dina and Nikidik, preparing for tomorrow’s interview, which will be televised and viewed by all of Oz. Not that Glinda is worried. She has excellent posture, walks gracefully in heels, and is a master of manipulating attention to her benefit. The hours fly by as she’s showered with compliments and little bits of advice from both the Emerald City citizens.

After lunch, she’s in Madame Morrible’s room. The mentor takes one look at her and scoffs.

“You’re set on going after Miss Thropp, aren’t you?”

“W-what?” Glinda stammers. She feels a real blush creep into her cheeks and fidgets in her seat. “I never—how did you—?”

“I saw you last night,” says Morrible. “Of course, you could be over the scores by now, but the look on your face as I’m talking about it says otherwise.”

Glinda attempts to smooth out her expression. “Alright fine. Look, I know you said to avoid her, but—”

“With that score she’s going to be a target.” Morrible raises an eyebrow at her. “You do realize that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Glinda says firmly. “An alliance was formed in training, and I’m almost certain they’ll go after her, too. If I follow her and I’m careful, I’ll always know where they are. They’ll be too focused on chasing her to find me.”

“So you’ve thought this through.”

“Yes,” she says again. “Besides, if it’s true that her family isn’t very popular in the Emerald City, then whoever kills her is sure to become an audience favorite. And the more the audience likes you, the more sponsors you get.”

Morrible studies her. “You are correct, Miss Glinda. Perhaps your determination is for the best. My only other advice would be to stay out of sight and keep an eye on whatever Career alliance forms, so I suppose this works just as well. You must remember, though, that Elphaba Thropp will be more resourceful than you expect. Do not underestimate her.”

Glinda nods but she has to fight the urge to roll her eyes. She knows better than anyone that appearances aren’t always accurate, but she’s been watching the green girl from the beginning. She has Elphaba figured out—what could possibly be left to surprise her?

“Any other advice?” she asks.

Morrible gives her a look. “Take a seat, Miss Glinda.” She waits for the blonde to do so before continuing. “Now, I know you’re upset about the nine you got in training, but that’s still quite impressive, both to the Gamemakers and potential sponsors. Besides, getting anything higher would have probably made you a target to young Master Tenmeadows, and then you’d be in a fair bit of trouble, whether you wanted to join an alliance with him or not.”

“I’m not joining any alliance,” Glinda says.

“Very well,” Morrible answers, though not before giving her another look. “Then let’s move on to what happens after the Cornucopia—provided that you survive until then.”

Glinda grits her teeth. Careers almost always survive the bloodbath of those first few minutes. Morrible has to be trying to get a rise out of her now, but what is she supposed to do about it? She forces herself to unclench her fists and smooth her fingers against the skirt of her dress.

“Obviously the alliance will take over the supplies at the Cornucopia, so I shouldn’t linger,” Glinda says. “But I can handle myself long enough to get what I need and run off.”

Morrible makes a noise in the back of her throat. “You said a dagger was your best weapon, correct? There will be plenty of those to choose from, but don’t get too picky. The faster you get out of there, the better. Those who remain to claim the Cornucopia will stay there a while to go through supplies and work out a plan. In the meantime, you can get a head start.”

“On hunting Elphaba.”

“Yes. Though don’t start after her until you’re alone. You don’t want anyone else to know you’re chasing her.”

Glinda nods. She wonders how it will happen. Will she find the green girl right away? Will she track her down slowly, or hang around her for a while to see what happens? There’s no way to know. Once they’re released into the arena, anything could happen.

She can’t wait.

The afternoon passes slowly as they continue to discuss strategy, but by dinner even Morrible seems pleased by their work, and Glinda is more confident than ever.

The meal is quiet and a little awkward. The mentors and Nikidik have all but done their jobs—the only thing left to do is get them to the arena on time. Tomorrow will be the interviews, of course, but that day belongs to their stylists and prep teams. And since they’re absent from the room, there isn’t much to talk about. The adults keep up half a conversation, but Glinda and Jeron eat silently.

The blonde keeps sneaking glances at her fellow tribute. What is he thinking? What strategies has he planned? Has he discussed anything with the other Careers? Did that alliance make any plans, or are they all just running on the hope that they don’t kill each other at the Cornucopia in two days?

Two days. Glinda has to stop and think about that. Two days until they’re put into the arena. No, less than that, because today is almost over. What are the other tributes thinking? Are they excited, like her? Are they nervous? Terrified, even? What is the green girl doing right now? Making plans with the boy from her district? Glinda smirks into her glass as she takes a drink. No, probably not. The two seem somewhat friendly, but Elphaba has to know that Boq is helpless. Oz, even _he_ has to know that.

These thoughts follow Glinda late into the night, and it’s a while before she’s able to actually fall asleep. She doesn’t think she’s the only one, though. She can practically feel the buzzing of restless minds throughout the Training Center, and it’s still an entire day before the Games.

Glinda smiles and turns over to nestle more comfortably into her pillow. Just one more day before the thing she’s been waiting for all her life begins.

 

***

 

Since the interviews aren’t until evening, they get to sleep in a little bit the next day. It’s mid-morning when the prep team arrives, giving them plenty of time to completely transform Glinda, but they get to work immediately.

By the time Dina shows up late that afternoon, her arms full of a long plastic bag and a small box, Glinda is nearly ready. Her hair is twisted into a bun at the back of her head, with her bangs curled and down, brushing against her cheeks. Her nails are painted a deep emerald, and every piece of jewelry she wears—from the necklace that hangs just above her sternum to the earrings dangling from her ears to the clip that holds her hair in place—shines as bright as the stylist’s unnatural eyes.

Dina hangs her bag on the wall and shoos the prep team away before turning to Glinda.

“You ready?” she asks. The blonde nods.

“Are we still going for innocent?” she asks, moving closer to the dress.

Dina just smiles. “Close your eyes.”

Glinda does. She hears the rustling of the bag, then the quieter shifting of fabric. Dina tells her to lift her arms, and then the dress is being slipped over her head, onto her body.

“Okay,” Dina says. “Open.”

There have been crazy outfits in the interviews. Tributes have walked onto the stage in feathers or flames or even nothing but paint or dye. All things considered, Dina’s designs have been entirely plain. And to Glinda’s surprise, she’s in love with it.

The gown is a deep, rich emerald, and something in the material makes it sparkle like the actual gems she’s wearing. There’s a soft white sash in the middle, and white lace flowers branch away from it, reaching nearly halfway down the skirt and coming up to form thin, lacy sleeves that come to Glinda’s elbow. The bottom of the skirt hovers at her ankles and for a second Glinda looks down at her feet, suddenly afraid of tripping.

“Here,” Dina says, grabbing the box she was carrying earlier and opening it. “I hope you like them.”

The blonde looks down and audibly gasps. Inside the box are a pair of jeweled shoes, shining and glimmering. Her hands shake as she reaches for them.

“They’re heavy,” she says, holding them closer. “They can’t actually be…”

“Real, solid emerald,” Dina says proudly. “Cut and shaped specially for you.”

Glinda clutches the shoes, suddenly certain that she will never in her life hold anything more precious. She has no words, but Dina seems to understand. She leans over to give Glinda a quick kiss on the cheek, then gently takes the shoes and bends down to help her into them.

“Normally,” she says, “This is where I give you some last piece of advice or encouragement. But honestly, I think you’ve pretty much got it.”

Glinda beams. She likes compliments. She likes looking amazing. She likes Dina, and the way she has never underestimated her because of her size.

“Thank you,” the blonde says. “The dresses, the shoes, everything has been so amazing.”

Dina takes Glinda’s hand and squeezes tight, and then the blonde is being led out of her room to the elevators on their floor.

Everyone else is already gathered there. Nikidik and the rest of the styling crews nearly squeal when they see her. As they all start complimenting Dina, Glinda meets Jeron’s eyes. His cheeks go red and he looks away, and Glinda can’t help but smile.

The elevator arrives and they all climb in to head down to the ground floor. The interviews will take place on a temporary stage that has been set up just outside the Training Center. Glinda thinks of all the people and cameras and bounces a little in her shoes, ignoring the look Morrible gives her.

As soon as they reach the ground, Glinda and Jeron are ushered away. They line up in order with the other tributes. Glinda leans around Jeron and looks back, trying to see if a certain green girl is here yet, but before she can get a good look the music starts playing and they’re being led up a small staircase and onto the stage.

Glinda is immediately blinded by the bright lights, but she can still hear the Emerald City crowd. The applause is overwhelming. She hears her name over the roar of the crowd as people call out to her specifically. She beams at the audience and cameras and gives a tiny wave, which earns her even more cheers.

Their seats are arranged in a semicircle toward the back of the stage. Crope and Tibbett are already bouncing around the front of the stage, as loud and enthusiastic as the crowd is. They begin as soon as the applause has died down enough for them to be heard. Once they welcome the crowd and get a few laughs out, they introduce the first tribute.

Shenshen stands from her chair and walks toward the boys. Her dress is tight and low-cut, even more revealing than at the opening ceremonies. She speaks in a low, smooth voice, stands with her chest out, and plays with her hair every other question. The crowd is immediately in love with her. Even Crope and Tibbett play along, although Glinda knows from years of watching the Games that the two boys only have eyes for each other. By the time the buzzer signals Shenshen’s interview is over, Glinda can’t remember a single word she’s said. She’s sure half the men in the Emerald City are the same way, but it doesn’t matter. They won’t forget her anytime soon.

Avaric is next, and half the girls in the crowd are screaming before he can even take his place at the front of the stage. He’s dressed sharp but you can still see how big he is, how much muscle he has. He performs flawlessly throughout his interview, giving brilliant smiles and winks that make the crowd go crazy. When the commentators go along with the flirting this time, Glinda isn’t entirely sure they’re faking it.

The next Gillikin district is called. The girl answers every question with some sort of witty comeback, cracking the audience up. The boy is huge and brooding, and he responds to Crope and Tibbett with a series of one word answers, or sometimes just grunts. Still, he’s big enough that it’s intimidating, and the crowd’s reaction makes it obvious that he’s still a favorite.

“And now, from the Pertha Hills district, Glinda Upland!”

Glinda’s heart pounds as she stands and walks toward the front of the stage. She’s suddenly aware that she’s trembling, but she masks it with her best smile and shy little waves at the crowd. Crope and Tibbett each shake her hand and smile reassuringly at her.

“May I say, you look wonderful this evening,” says Tibbett. “That dress is _gorgeous_.”

The lights are so bright and she’s so dizzy all of a sudden that when she smiles back at him, she thinks the flush in her cheeks might actually be real.

“Thank you,” she says. Her hands go to her skirt and she holds it out. “I can’t believe I’m actually wearing this. And just look at these _shoes_.”

She lifts up the dress a little to show them off, and the crowd cheers appreciatively.

“So, Glinda,” Crope says, “Pertha Hills is the smallest Gillikin district, correct? Tell us, what’s different between here and there?”

The blonde giggles. “Well, it’s a lot greener here.” That gets her a laugh. “No, but seriously. Everything is just so grand and wonderful. It’s like a dream come true, being here.”

“Is there anything you miss about home?” Tibbett asks.

For the first time, Glinda realizes Ama Clutch must be watching this.

“My family,” she says, somewhat slowly. “My parents and my Ama. They mean the world to me.”

There’s a collective _aww_ from the audience. Glinda smiles down at her feet.

“Did you get a chance to say goodbye?” asks Crope. “After the reaping?”

“I did. My parents told me they were proud of me. And my Ama…” Glinda trails off, hearing the old woman’s last few words to her. _Are you ready to kill other people? Are you really that excited to throw away your life? Even if you win, you might not be coming back in one piece._

The blonde realizes she hasn’t finished her sentence yet. The audience is murmuring. Crope and Tibbett are staring expectedly. She thinks fast. Her left hand reaches up to cup her right elbow and she ducks her head away, sniffing just loud enough for the boys to hear.

“It’s okay,” Tibbett says gently, putting a protective arm around her shoulders. “We understand.”

Glinda mumbles an apology and looks up again in time to see at least a few people in the front rows dabbing at their eyes. She blinks a few times before nodding a little at the boys.

“One last question, before our time is up,” Crope says gently. “If that’s okay?”

“Y-yes, of course.”

“Your reaping. I think we’re all dying to know—why did you volunteer? What was going through your head?”

Glinda smoothes her hands against her skirt and takes a breath. She’s had this answer planned for years. “Well, I was thinking of my family. See, we live in a small house several miles outside the closest city, and I’ve always thought that my parents and Ama deserved better. I’ve wanted all my life to win the Games so that we could live in the Victor’s Village and have everything we want.” There are more sounds of sympathy, of adoration, but then Glinda gives a little laugh. “Of course, now that I’ve spent time in the Emerald City, I realize that nothing in Pertha Hills could ever compare.”

That gets her even more applause, but before the boys can respond her buzzer goes off.

“Well, we wish you all the luck with that noble cause,” says Crope, grasping her hand and raising it in the air. “Glinda Upland, tribute from Pertha Hills!”

Glinda stares out over the crowd as they cheer, completely in awe. She manages another smile and wave before she heads back to her seat.

She sits trembling, in a daze, throughout all of Jeron’s interview. She misses most of what he says, but the adrenaline and excitement wear off by the time they call the first Vinkan district.

It’s the Sarima girl. She walks to the front of the stage with a calculated sort of grace—like a hunter, Glinda thinks. Her outfit is made out of leather and animal skins, and it shows off most of her skin. She looks too young in it, though, and it’s clear that she’s overwhelmingly nervous when she shakes the boys’ hands.

They ask her about the Vinkus, about her skills as a hunter, and even about her relationship to Fiyero. Apparently everyone has noticed there’s something there. But she doesn’t give them a clear answer, and her time is up before they can press the issue.

Fiyero is next, and for the first time Glinda realizes how attractive he is. His dark skin and bright tattoos—which she’s only caught a glimpse of in training, but are now on full display—make him exotic and exciting. He looks like he could be dangerous, too, but at the moment he’s just endearing. He grows more and more bashful as Crope and Tibbett tease and flirt, and Glinda can practically hear the sponsors lining up for him.

“Now Fiyero.” Tibbett lowers his voice and leans in “Sarima didn’t give us _nearly_ enough detail. What’s the deal with you two? You knew each other before the reaping, yes?”

“Y-yeah,” Fiyero says. His cheeks darken and he rubs the back of his head, looking down. “We grew up together. We hunted together, our families are close, that kind of thing.”

“Oh come on, give us more,” Crope begs. “Is there something there? Because I must say, the two of you would be _beautiful_ together.”

There’s a scoff from the other side of the tributes’ circle, and Glinda looks over to see the green girl glowering toward the crowd. But then Fiyero’s stammering out a response, and the blonde looks back at him.

“Well…you see…Sarima and I…well, we’re engaged.”

That draws the loudest reaction yet. The crowd seems to gasp as one. Women squeal as the cameras cut to Sarima, who is blushing furiously down at her feet.

Glinda raises her eyebrows. Fiyero is probably eighteen, but Sarima can’t be older than fifteen or sixteen. Are they really engaged, or is it just an act to get fans? She thinks about the couple during training. They were familiar with each other, yes, but they didn’t seem all that devoted to each other. Then again, the Vinkans have some odd practices. Engaged, maybe, Glinda thinks, but probably not in love.

Either way, it’s effective. Crope and Tibbett can’t get another word in for the rest of the interview, the audience is so wild. The buzzer goes off and Fiyero hurries back to his chair, where Sarima leans over and whispers something in his ear.

The crowd settles down after a minute or two, and the interviews carry on. Crope and Tibbett continue to greet everyone with the same enthusiasm and seem genuinely interested in their answers, even though Glinda finds herself growing bored by the time they’re halfway through the Quadling tributes.

She perks up again when Nest Hardings, the last Munchkinland district, is called. The green girl seems to float forward on the stage. Her dress is purple, but the color is so deep it almost looks black. It flutters around her as she walks, shimmering ever so slightly in the stage lights, making her dark and mysterious and, once again, captivating.

Elphaba looks dangerous as she takes her place beside Crope and Tibbett. Not just for the Games, but right here, right now, on this stage in front of the entire Emerald City. Glinda glances around her, but there’s no hum of energy or rippling air. Her magic must be, for once, in control.

Miraculously, Crope and Tibbett get her to smile. At least, she smirks a couple of times. They tease her and she bites back, her answers clever and cutting. Glinda realizes this is the first time she’s actually heard the green girl speak. Her voice is low—not purposefully, like Shenshen’s, but naturally. It’s smooth and rough at the same time, like water running over stones. It’s quiet but mesmerizing, drawing the full attention of the crowd no matter what she says. Glinda can hear intelligence and passion and she has the sudden desire to listen to the green girl talk for hours.

She shakes her head a little. Elphaba’s interview is almost over, and she’s said almost nothing about herself. Crope and Tibbett seem to realize this, too, but before they have a chance to fix it the buzzer goes off. The green girl smirks, a bit triumphant, and Glinda wonders if that was her plan all along—play along well enough, and distract them from asking about things she doesn’t want to talk about.

The crowd sounds regretful as Elphaba Thropp makes her way back to her seat, just as mysterious as ever.

They call Boq’s name next, and the Munchkin seems even smaller than usual as he walks slowly to the front of the stage. Crope and Tibbett shake his hand and smile warmly at him, but he still trembles as they start asking questions. The Emerald City boys are friendly and even a little flirtatious with him, and Boq looks relieved. Still, it’s not enough. He has no skills to speak of. His reaping wasn’t exciting, and neither is his home life. He’s nice enough, and Crope and Tibbett seem to genuinely like him, but it’s clear that the boy is hopeless.

His buzzer goes off and he hurries back to his seat, his face bright red. Crope and Tibbett wrap up the show as the audience jumps to their feet, cheering madly. The tributes all stand as the music plays again, and Glinda catches a glimpse of herself on one of the screens that lines the nearby buildings. She wonders if Ama Clutch is still watching, but more likely than not the old woman has turned her attention to her knitting by now and is pointedly _not_ looking at their television screen.

She’s not sure why it suddenly matters, but since she’s certain her Ama isn’t watching, Glinda waves and blows kisses and smiles until her cheeks hurt.

She doesn’t realize until they return to their rooms that night that the funny feeling in her stomach is something oddly like guilt.

 

***

 

The next morning comes both too soon and not soon enough. Glinda rolls out of bed, not entirely sure she ever actually slept, and dresses into a plain outfit that’s been set out for her. They’re loaded onto a hovercraft that will take them to the arena. Dina is there with her, but she sees no one else but Emerald City servants the entire ride. The flight lasts just long enough for them to insert a metal tracker into Glinda’s arm and serve breakfast. Glinda eats light but drinks plenty of water. Who knows when she’ll have cold, clean water again?

When they land she’s led to an underground chamber beneath the arena. Glinda pulls her hair into a tight ponytail and scrubs whatever makeup is left from the night before off her face. Dina unwraps an outfit and inspects it.

“The material is well-insulated,” Dina says, helping Glinda into the clothes. “And the jacket is designed to keep out wind. My guess is it’s going to get cold out there.”

When she’s all dressed, Glinda wears a thick, long-sleeve shirt beneath the jacket, black pants, and sturdy boots. She walks around and swings her arms a bit, getting used to the clothes. She feels warm and protected, although her hands are still bare. Maybe there will be gloves in the Cornucopia.

“You don’t have a token, do you?” Dina asks. “Anything you brought from your district?”

Glinda shakes her head. She hasn’t even thought about it until now. The stylist just smiles.

“Okay. You’re all set then. Can you eat anymore?”

Nerves have finally caught up with the blonde, and she shakes her head again. Dina squeezes her hand and moves her over to the launching pad. In just a few short minutes, Glinda will be carried up to the arena.

“Take a deep breath,” says Dina. Glinda obeys and feels her heartbeat start to slow down.

“Thanks,” she says quietly. “I…” She trails off, not sure what else to say.

“They loved you last night,” the stylist whispers, tucking a stray piece of hair away from Glinda’s face. “I’ll bet you anything Morrible is already overwhelmed with people who want to sponsor you.”

The blonde nods. “Thank you so much.” She wraps her arms around Dina, hugging her just as a voice announces that it’s time to launch. Glinda steps back into her circle as a glass cylinder begins to lower.

“Good luck,” Dina says, grasping her hand one last time. She looks like she wants to say something else, but then the cylinder is around her, cutting her off.

Glinda feels herself begin to rise. She meets Dina’s steady gaze and lifts her chin, taking another deep breath.

Darkness surrounds her and she closes her eyes, waiting. She keeps them closed until she feels cool, fresh air around her. She inhales and opens her eyes. All around her is green—not the shining emerald of the city but the deeper, richer color of evergreen trees. In the distance, above and all around them, she can see rocky peaks covered in snow and fog.

 _A valley,_ she thinks, looking around. _We’re in a valley._

Her eyes adjust more to the brightness and she takes in her closer surroundings. All twenty-four tributes are arranged in a circle around the Cornucopia, a giant metal horn overflowing with supplies. A countdown of sixty seconds is displayed in the sky above them. If they move before then, the mines buried around their plates will blow them to bits.

Glinda tenses, ready to run, and studies the supplies she can see. There’s a decent sized backpack leaning against a small rack of daggers about thirty feet from the mouth of the horn. It shouldn’t be too hard to grab the bag and a good blade before running off. She’s fast—there’s a good chance she can be in and out before most of the other tributes even make it to the Cornucopia.

She’s thinking all of this, with about thirty seconds left, when something in the corner of her vision distracts her. She looks over. A few plates away stands the green girl, but Elphaba isn’t looking at her. She’s staring at someone else. Her eyes are wide, her mouth slightly open. She shakes her head, slowly at first, then more urgently, mouthing something.

Glinda follows the green girl’s gaze and sees Boq. The little Munchkin stares back at Elphaba, who has now frozen in place. He gives her a small, sad smile, then glances up at the timer. Twenty seconds left.

Boq closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and steps off his plate.


	5. Chapter 5

The entire world explodes.

At least, that’s what it feels like to Glinda. It’s a miracle she doesn’t fall off her own platform, really. The blast of air and heat hits her, biting at her face and blowing her hair and clothes around. She throws her arms over her head and waits for the roar to die down.

Her eyes squeeze shut and suddenly all she can see is Boq’s face—his eyes closed and his features relaxed. For the first time that she’s seen, there was no fear. No, he looked almost _peaceful._ It doesn’t fit, it’s not right, and it’s immediately and forever burned into her memory.

When she has the courage to look up again, there’s nothing left of Boq. Nothing at all.

Everyone is staring now, and she can only imagine the reaction in the Emerald City, but Glinda turns to look at Elphaba. The green girl has turned her head away, her eyes shut tight and her entire face screwed up.

The blonde starts to feel sorry for her, but then she remembers this is the girl she has sworn to hunt down and kill. The thought makes her look up again—two seconds left. She crouches slightly, waiting…waiting…

The gong goes off, taking many of the tributes by surprise. Glinda leaps off her plate and sprints for the bag she spotted earlier. She can hear shouts behind her, but no footsteps yet, and no signs of fighting.

She thinks she’s the first to get to the supplies, but she doesn’t stop to look around and check. She slings the backpack over her shoulders and turns to the rack of daggers. There’s no time to feel any of them out, so she grabs three that are a good length, shoves one into her belt, and takes off running again.

There’s a piercing cry from somewhere behind her, and without thinking Glinda looks back over her shoulder. The first kills have started. She watches Avaric pull a sword out of a Quadling girl. Something flashes through the air beside him, and a small knife hits a Vinkan boy tight at the base of his skull.

 _Jeron_ , Glinda thinks. No one else has that kind of aim.

There are more shrieks and cries, violent coughing, loud grunts of pain. It’s unlike anything she has ever heard before, even in her years of training. Glinda decides it’s time to go, especially since that Pfannee girl has spotted her and is lifting her crossbow.

The blonde turns away again and runs for the forest of evergreens that completely surrounds the Cornucopia. A crossbow bolt goes flying past her, but three days in the training room isn’t enough to make Pfannee that deadly. Glinda hits the tree line before anything else is aimed at her. The shouting continues behind her, but it stays distant, and she’s fairly certain that they’ve let her go for now.

Still, she keeps running until the ground starts sloping up. She slows down, trying to quiet her breathing, and looks around. She’s at the base of one of the mountains, though she’s still got a while before she would have to start climbing. She wonders how far the arena really goes, and if she could climb up high enough to have a good vantage point. But then again, she would be completely visible to anyone nearby if she did that. Besides, they’re probably domed into the valley and can’t get up that far anyway.

Glinda keeps walking, listening hard for any sounds of pursuit. She’s dying to look inside her bag and see what supplies she has, but she decides to wait until she knows she’s safe. She needs to get to a place where she can look around. She slows and studies the trees that surround her. They’re all evergreens—excellent for cover but not always the best for climbing. Still, there are a few that seem somewhat sturdy, and there’s not much she can do until she gets a good view, so Glinda sticks another blade in her belt and the third in her bag, secures the pack over both shoulders, and starts climbing.

Her size is an advantage here, but the bag slows her down. When she gets up high enough, she takes it off and tucks it safely near the trunk of the tree. Now she’s even smaller and lighter, and it takes almost no time at all to reach the highest branches.

There’s still enough green to keep her covered, but from here Glinda can see almost the entire arena. She narrows her eyes at the Cornucopia. The alliance is already getting set up there, digging through supplies and swinging around different weapons. Glinda tries to count the bodies that must be lying nearby, but they’re already gone, picked up by the Emerald City’s hovercrafts. That must mean…

The first cannon goes off. Glinda counts as they go. One for Boq. One for the Quadling girl Avaric killed, and the Vinkan boy Jeron hit. The ninth cannon goes off and echoes throughout the valley. Nine tributes dead. She doesn’t know everyone, won’t know until they show their pictures tonight, but something tells her the entire alliance is still around. Fiyero and Sarima too, probably.

And Elphaba. Glinda leans forward a little and scans the valley. She didn’t keep track of the green girl during the bloodbath, but she can’t be far. She was probably still reeling from Boq’s explosion and stumbled into the woods without trying for any supplies. And since she had started close to the same place as Glinda, the blonde has a fairly good idea of where she’d be now.

The alliance will be going through their gear at the Cornucopia for at least another half hour. That should give Glinda plenty of time to at least find the green girl’s trail. She gives a smirk, sure that at least a couple cameras are on her right now, and retreats back down the tree.

She stops when she reaches her bag, hesitating. Now is probably her best time to sort through her own supplies, as long as she’s quick. She opens the pack and digs through. There’s a giant water bottle that’s already full, a pack of dried meat, two small apples, and a loaf of bread. She pushes the food aside and finds a coil of thin but strong rope, a rolled up thermal blanket, a ring of hooks and a small net, a box of matches, and—much to her delight—a pair of gloves. She slips them on. They’re thin, skin-tight, and have the fingers cut off. They’re all but useless against the cold, but perfect for gripping weapons or tree branches or rocks.

She repacks the bag and pulls it back over her shoulders before slipping back down the tree. The air is cool and fresh, the Careers and their pack are far away, and she can’t be far from the green freak.

 _Let the Games begin,_ she thinks.

 

***

 

It’s about mid-morning—judging by the too-bright sun that’s nearing the top of the sky—by the time Glinda finds her first clue. She kneels down to inspect the scrape mark of a boot, clear as day in the bed of pine needles. There’s no way to tell if it’s Elphaba’s or not, but it’s definitely somebody’s. The blonde swipes her hand over the mark to cover it again and heads off in the right direction, keeping an eye out for more signs.

It doesn’t take long. There are more boot marks, a couple broken branches, and even—finally—a few strands of long black hair. The green girl has been here, and she was moving fast, but how long ago was that? How far has she gone?

Glinda slows down and listens hard. She doesn’t _think_ there’s anyone within earshot, but she wants to know for sure. Besides, it would be nice to have an idea of where the alliance is, too. She finds another sturdy tree and scrambles up for a better view.

She’s pretty far from the Cornucopia now, but she can just make out the figures of the alliance. They’re gathering together and pointing at the tree line. Any minute now they’ll head out in search of the other tributes. Glinda wonders if they have any idea which way Elphaba went and how long it will take them to catch up.

She looks away from the clearing and scans the trees around her, but it only takes a moment to realize how useless it is. Elphaba is _green_. Even if she’s close, Glinda won’t be able to see her from this high up. Quietly, she moves down a few branches and tries again.

Something moves off to her right. She can’t see through the leaves enough to get a clear view, but it’s dark and it’s moving with a purpose. Glinda grins and hurries back down the tree.

Not only does she have green skin and dark clothes, but Elphaba is also unnaturally good at moving silently. It’s another half hour before Glinda gets close enough to see her, but the wait seems immediately worth it.

Elphaba is pushing through the woods, heading in a steady, determined path toward the mountains. She doesn’t seem to have much. All Glinda can see is a small sack—probably filled with food—and a broken branch that the green girl is using as a walking stick.

The blonde places a hand on one of the daggers tucked into her belt. She has a good enough arm to throw it and hit the green girl. If she moves closer, she can probably hit a vital spot, killing the girl almost immediately. And that’s just throwing. If she can manage to sneak up behind her, then Elphaba Thropp is done for.

But now isn’t the time. The Emerald City wants a good show. What’s better for a show than suspense? Besides, if Elphaba’s image is shown in the air tonight, then the alliance will stop trying to chase her, and Glinda won’t have any idea what their plan is.

No, she’ll wait. Not that it matters. Glinda is a professional and Elphaba is an amateur. She could hunt the green girl for days without being caught. There’s no point in revenge if she doesn’t get to have a little fun with it.

Glinda takes one last look at the green girl before retreating back out of sight. She’ll have to keep her distance and only come close once in a while to check up on Elphaba. Of course, she catches a glimpse of her once in a while. And though the green girl is good at being stealthy, there’s still a rustle in the trees every so often.

The day passes like this, with Elphaba leading them further away from the Cornucopia and the alliance, and closer to the steep slope of the mountains. For a while Glinda tries to keep track of time by the sun’s position in the sky, but eventually she realizes there’s no point to it. The only schedule in the arena is the Gamemakers’.

Speaking of which, what are they planning? It’s been quiet for a few hours now. Is that enough for the Emerald City to start to get bored, or are they still occupied with the replays of the Cornucopia?

Apparently the latter, because things are still calm by the time the sun starts to disappear over the mountaintops. Glinda makes a mental note of the side the sun is setting on. They’re heading southwest and are moving steadily enough that they’ll probably reach the foot of a mountain soon if Elphaba doesn’t change direction.

Glinda wonders if the green girl knows this, or if she even has a plan at all. She decides now is a good time to check up on Elphaba, since it’s getting dark and the green girl might stop soon. She creeps toward Elphaba, crouching low and moving silently, and quickly finds her in a bit of a clearing.

Elphaba has stopped, but she’s looking back and forth between the sky and the trees ahead of her. The scowl on her face makes it seem like she wants to keep going, but the sag in her shoulders makes it seem like she needs to stop. Exhaustion apparently wins out, and she pulls the pack off her shoulder and wanders over to the base of a tree. Glinda watches as she snaps a few branches off and digs through the underbrush, making herself a little hole of a shelter.

Despite herself, the blonde is impressed. When Elphaba ducks inside, she disappears almost entirely. The only indication she’s in there is the slight shaking of the branches when she moves around.

Glinda needs to find shelter for the night, too, but moving around now will surely alert the green girl. In a little while they’ll play the Emerald City’s anthem and show the pictures of all the tributes who were killed that day. The music will probably be enough to cover any noise Glinda makes, but she’ll have to be fast. She’ll have to know what she wants to do.

She doesn’t want to be on the ground. It feels too close to the green girl. Glinda looks around. The tree closest to her is tall and looks strong. It’s far enough from Elphaba’s shelter that the green girl probably won’t be able to see her once she’s up in the branches. If she can get up high enough during the music, then it should be easy enough to tie herself and her pack without getting caught.

How much time before the anthem plays? Glinda slowly pulls the rope out of her bag and slings the coil over her shoulder. She tries to catch sight of Elphaba, but the green girl is hidden in her shelter.

Music starts to play, sounding weirdly distorted as it echoes through the arena. Glinda slips from her hiding spot and over to the far side of the tree. The bark is rough and there are plenty of low branches for her to grab and use. She hoists herself up, trying to make as little sound and movement as possible. The sky glows a dim green as the Emerald City’s emblem is displayed. Glinda scrambles onto a branch that’s nearly as thick as she is and pulls the bag and rope off her shoulders. She scoots back against the trunk just as the pictures of the fallen tributes begin.

The first picture is a Vinkan boy, which means all the Gillikin tributes survived. He’s the only Vinkan they show, though. Glinda thinks of Fiyero and Sarima, still alive, and wonders vaguely if they’re together or if they went separate ways.

Two Quadling boys and all three Quadling girls are shown. There’s not much time left. Glinda carefully digs through her bag and starts pulling out the blanket.

A Munchkin boy and girl are next, though she notices that Pfannee is still alive. She must have made it into the alliance, after all.

Boq’s picture is last. Glinda glances down and finds Elphaba sitting just outside her shelter. She’s hugging her knees to her chest and looking up at the sky. The light from the photograph reflects in her dark eyes, and she continues to stare long after the music fades and the display disappears.

Glinda wonders if now is the time to do it. Elphaba is just sitting there, out in the open, the perfect target. The others in the arena will hear the cannon, but they won’t know who was killed until tomorrow night when the anthem plays again. Slowly, Glinda pulls one of the daggers out of her belt. She probably can’t kill Elphaba in one hit—the blade isn’t made for throwing—but if she can hurt her enough that she won’t be able to escape…

Her muscles tense as shifts her grip on the blade and leans forward. Everyone in the Emerald City is watching her, waiting to see how this moment will play out. The districts, too. All of Oz is watching her, right in this very moment.

Including Ama Clutch.

The thought almost makes Glinda fall off her branch. She hesitates, twirling the blade restlessly between her hands. She doesn’t want to think about what Ama would say to her right now. She doesn’t want to imagine the old woman’s face, wrinkled and worried and telling her to make the right decision.

This is the right decision. Right?

Glinda has everyone’s attention right now. She’s proved how smart she is, how quick and resourceful. Now she can prove how deadly she is. It would just take one toss of her blade, a quick trip down to the ground to finish the green girl off, and then Elphaba Thropp would be no more. She would have sponsor after sponsor. She would be the Emerald City’s favorite. This is exactly what she planned, so why shouldn’t she throw the dagger?

A voice nags at the back of her mind, telling her exactly why she shouldn’t. But it sounds strangely like Ama Clutch so she ignores it. Still, maybe this isn’t the right time. After all, it’s only been a day. The Emerald City would be absolutely _thrilled_ to have this kind of suspense drawn out, wouldn’t they? And besides, what if Elphaba screams? There’s no telling who or what is close enough to hear them and come running.

No, Glinda should wait. Soon enough she’ll have the chance to sneak up behind the green freak and get her in one shot. The blonde spins the dagger and sticks it in her bag—walking around with two at her waist is getting uncomfortable. She pulls the pack over her shoulders and leans back against the tree. Carefully, she ties herself to the branch and pulls the blanket over herself. Below, Elphaba crawls quietly back into her shelter.

Glinda stares at the place she had been sitting for a long while, but she keeps a smug little smirk on her face. She’s going to have to be careful if she wants to keep everyone’s attention. They have to think she’s waiting for a reason.

“Elphaba,” she breathes, loud enough for a camera to hear, but not the green girl. “Poor little Elphie. Just you wait.”


	6. Chapter 6

The temperature plummets as the night goes on. The air that had been crisp and pleasant with the sunlight is now freezing and bitter. The wind that blows down from the mountain doesn’t help, either, and Glinda is eternally grateful for the blanket that’s tucked around her.

She looks down once in a while to see how Elphaba is faring, but the shelter has fallen still and there’s no sign of her. Maybe she’s buried herself in pine needles for warmth. She might even have a spell to keep out the cold, though Glinda doubts she has that much control, even after her time in the training room. Either way, she stays still and silent throughout the night.

Glinda dozes in and out, not comfortable enough to really fall asleep. Each time she wakes up she adjusts her blanket, checks that her rope is still secure, and looks down at Elphaba’s shelter. After a while it starts getting tedious, and the next time she wakes up she simply sits there, staring up through a break in the branches.

The stars have taken over, shining more brilliantly than she’s ever seen them, but what really captures her attention is the streaks of color that dance across the sky. Brilliant shades of green and blue and purple float above her, and she can’t do anything but stare. She’s never seen anything like this before. They’re everywhere, too, all across the valley and above the mountaintops. The lights of the Emerald City are dazzling, but this is a thousand times better. Where in Oz are they that something like this can happen naturally?

Glinda doesn’t sleep much after that. She spends the rest of the night gazing up at the clear sky and letting her mind wander. She can still see Boq’s face as he stepped off the platform—how peaceful he looked that split second before his death. Glinda shudders at the memory. How can anyone be that accepting of _death_? Sure, the boy had no chance. But maybe he could have run far enough to survive the first day. Maybe he could have been high up in a tree tonight, staring up at the lights dancing in the sky. Glinda tries to picture that instead, but she can’t get the image of his face out of her head.

She realizes she’s shaking now, even though the blanket is warm and pulled up to her shoulders. She shakes her head and leans back against the tree. The eastern side of the valley is starting to lighten up. Quietly, before the green girl wakes up, Glinda unties herself and stuffs the blanket and rope back into her bag. She’s eager for dawn now—for the light and warmth to come and push these stupid images out of her head.

Fog descends over the valley as the sun rises. It’s so thick that Glinda can barely see Elphaba crawl out of her shelter. The green girl quickly spreads out the branches and leaves she used before pulling an apple from her pack and continuing on.

Glinda scurries down her tree and heads after her. The heavy mist stays throughout the rest of the morning, making it hard to keep an eye on the green girl. Glinda even almost runs into her once, when Elphaba stops to eat a little bit. The blonde catches herself just before she walks into Elphaba’s line of sight and ducks down into the underbrush, cursing the stupid mountains and their stupid weather.

Apparently she’s not the only one. About an hour after that she hears voices, coming through the forest toward them.

“I hate this,” says one. “I can’t see anything.”

Glinda draws her dagger and drops into a crouch. It’s not even noon yet. Could the alliance really have caught up to them yet?

But there are only two voices, and they’re both rich with Vinkan accents. The blonde holds absolutely still, peering out through the leaves as Fiyero and Sarima come into view. So they have stuck together. And out of all the tributes in the arena, these two have the best chance of finding Glinda and Elphaba.

Elphaba. Glinda’s blood runs cold. Where is the green girl? Did she hear the others coming close, or is she still wandering around? Do they know she’s here? Are they hunting her?

No. If they were trying to get the green girl, they wouldn’t be talking. They must be just wandering through, unaware that their path is crossing other tributes. Glinda takes a quiet breath and tries to listen.

“I’ve never seen fog this heavy,” says Sarima. “Have you?”

“Once, when we took that trip to the Kells,” Fiyero replies. “But I don’t think even that was this bad.”

“This is unnerving,” she says. “And we’re not going to catch anything.”

“Not when we’re talking, no.”

Sarima rolls her eyes, but she smiles a little bit. Fiyero pulls a bag off his shoulder and digs through it for a moment before pulling out a small loaf of bread. He breaks it and hands Sarima half. They quietly decide to rest for a while, and Fiyero takes a seat on the ground while Sarima stays standing, looking around once in a while.

She needs to find Elphaba, preferably before the Vinkans do. Glinda waits until Sarima is turned away and distracted with her bread, then slips out from her hiding spot. She does her best to move silently and listens hard for any sounds from Fiyero and Sarima behind her.

To her surprise and increasing panic, she doesn’t find the green girl. Glinda falls still again and looks around. She just heard Elphaba a few minutes ago—she can’t be _that_ far. But there’s no sign of her.

 _She’s safe,_ the blonde tells herself. _She’s probably just hiding._ Glinda takes a deep breath and looks around again, slower this time. The trees here are thinner and the fog is sticking to the ground, making the underbrush the best place for cover. Glinda crouches lower to the ground and peers through the trees around her, but there’s no trace of the green girl.

No, wait. Glinda narrows her eyes at a spot a few yards away. Elphaba has completely melted into the trees, but the air is shimmering ever so slightly at the base of a pine.

“We should keep going.” Fiyero’s voice comes from the forest behind them, making Glinda jump. “Maybe we can find someplace where the fog isn’t as thick.”

Sarima mumbles agreement and, after a minute or so, their footsteps fade away in the opposite direction. Glinda lets out a silent breath and watches as the shimmering disappears. Elphaba comes slowly out of her hiding place. She’s breathing hard and shaking, her fists clenching and unclenching. For a while she just stands there, staring through the trees to where Fiyero and Sarima were until her chest stops heaving and her hands stay still at her sides.

Eventually the green girl readjusts her pack of food and starts off again, but Glinda watches her go without moving. Her own heartbeat is still slowing down, though she was never really in any danger. She’s certain she could take Fiyero and Sarima if she had to. That’s not what she was so afraid of.

She shakes her head. So she was worried about Elphaba getting caught. That’s only natural, right? She wants to be the one to kill Elphaba, not some loner hunters from the Vinkus. That’s the only reason why she panicked.

Before she can come up with another answer, Glinda climbs to her feet and continues following the green girl’s trail.

 

***

 

The fog clears up around noon, and while Glinda is relieved, she also starts looking over her shoulder twice as often. They haven’t seen anyone else all morning, but with the fog gone it’s only a matter of time before someone catches up to them.

Elphaba picks berries from nearby bushes and eats as she walks. Glinda decides to preserve what’s in her bag and follows her example, although she’s far less certain about what is and isn’t safe. They make good pace until about halfway through the afternoon, when the green girl starts slowing down. At first Glinda thinks it’s on purpose—did Elphaba hear something? Does she know she’s being followed? It’s only half an hour later, when the blonde stops to take a drink, that she figures it out.

When was the last time Elphaba had any water? Glinda has her bottle, but they haven’t come across any streams or pools. It’s not hot out here, but they’ve been moving for a day and a half. No wonder the green girl is faltering.

There has to be some water source around here—especially with all the snow on the mountains. There should be at least a few streams trickling down into the forest. Maybe that’s what Elphaba has been moving toward all this time. She’s making her way up the valley, where the trees will be thinner and she’ll be able to find a water source easily.

Glinda hopes they get there quickly. Elphaba still seems determined, but without water she won’t last much longer. And what fun will it be killing her if she’s already half-dead?

As the afternoon drags on Glinda gets more and more frustrated. The green girl has slowed to little more than a stumble, though her scowl hasn’t faltered one bit. The most irritating part is that Glinda can’t do anything but follow her and watch. She eventually moves close enough to keep the green girl in sight, but it only makes her more annoyed. Why didn’t Elphaba think things through? Can’t she use some sort of magic to fix this? Apparently not, because as the sun nears the western peaks, it’s starting to seem absolutely hopeless.

Glinda is just beginning to wonder if she should kill Elphaba now, just to get to her before dehydration does, when she hears it. It’s quiet and bubbly, but the little sound makes her heart soar.

She looks through the trees at Elphaba, whose head has spun around toward the noise. She’s moving in an instant, forgetting all caution as she hurries toward the sound of the water. Glinda follows more slowly, wiping out all signs of a trail that the green girl leaves.

Dusk has officially fallen, and the sun glares low and blinding, painting the rest of valley gold. Glinda creeps toward the little stream they’ve found. Elphaba is kneeling beside it, her back to the blonde, gulping down handfuls of the crystal clear water. Glinda takes the opportunity to look around them. They’re probably not far from the end of the forest. There are trees going up the mountainside, but those are shorter and there are a lot less of them. She wonders where the green girl will go next. Will she try to find a good hideout here, near the water, or will she keep moving?

At that moment Elphaba stands and moves a few yards away from the stream. Her back is still turned, and Glinda can’t help but stare at the water. It looks cool and fresh and it’s coming from right off the mountain. Is it worth the risk to creep to the stream’s edge and fill up her water bottle? Maybe if she moves a little further downstream she can stay out of sight.

She’s just about to sneak forward when something moves in the corner of her vision. She looks up to see Elphaba sprinting out of sight, disappearing deeper into the forest.

Glinda tenses, listening hard, but she hears nothing other than the sound of the green girl running. Something must have scared her off, but what? The only thing here is Glinda herself.

Realization hits, and Glinda scrambles to her feet, cursing under her breath as she chases after Elphaba. How is the green girl moving so fast when just a few minutes ago she was stumbling from exhaustion?

 _It was a trick_ , Glinda thinks bitterly. Of course it was. A day and a half without water would be hard, but with the berries she’s been eating she would still be fine. Elphaba must have noticed Glinda at some point and faked dehydration to throw her off her guard

Glinda is fast, but Elphaba’s long legs give her the slightest advantage. She stays right at the edge of the blonde’s vision, leading her through the trees and further uphill. Eventually Glinda stops. She bites back a growl and resists the urge to kick the nearest tree. She’ll never catch her like this. She’ll just have to let her go and find her again. The stream is still nearby—Elphaba will have to come back to it eventually, right?

The trees are thinner here, and the ground is littered with piles of boulders that are three times her size. Glinda wonders how high up the mountain she really is. She needs to look around and figure out exactly where she is. Maybe she’ll even be able to catch a glimpse of where the green girl ran off to. None of the trees are big enough to climb, though, so she settles for a rock pile.

The sun is dropping quickly, though it still hurts Glinda’s eyes every time she tries to look up the mountain. She scrambles up the pile, her boots and fingers scraping against the stone. It takes some effort to get high enough to look around. She immediately hates it. She feels exposed and she can’t stand straight without feeling as though she’s about to fall off. Still, she grits her teeth and forces herself to rise into a semi-crouch to look around.

Something rumbles above her, and she spins around to find the source of the noise. She can’t see anything but rocks, though, and she cautiously draws her dagger. Something isn’t right, but from this position the sun is blinding her and she’s probably in plain sight for this entire part of the woods. She needs to get down.

She takes a step toward the edge of the boulder, but the rumbling sound comes again. Glinda freezes. She can feel the rock pile shifting beneath her. Too late, she thinks of how quiet the Games have been so far, and how the Gamemakers have probably rigged every single mountainside in this arena.

Her grip on her blade tightens. She should have known better than to climb up here, but now it’s too late. The ground around her trembles and groans. Her boulder shifts forward, nearly throwing her off.

 _Move!_ Glinda thinks, although a part of her swears she hears it out loud, too. Her body takes over where her mind has frozen and she half-dives, half-rolls off the rock pile. She lands hard against the ground but doesn’t stop to check the damage. She scrambles to her feet and starts running in a random direction. Rocks shift and slide beneath her and she stumbles around more than she actually runs. Larger boulders start crashing down the mountain and Glinda has to bite her lip to keep from screaming as she jumps around dodging them.

Her foot hits the ground wrong and rolls. She cries out as she loses her balance and slides downhill, clawing at the ground to stop herself. Her ankle throbs, but she straightens it out and climbs shakily to her feet again.

Too late. She looks up to see one of the larger rocks coming down, heading straight for her. She doesn’t even try to move. She just stares, mesmerized, her dagger hanging uselessly in her hand.

When it hits her, it comes from the side, not head on like she was expecting. Two arms wrap loosely around her as she’s knocked to the side and downhill, and that’s when she realizes it isn’t the boulder that crashed into her.

She lands hard but on solid ground, the bag on her back cushioning her a little. Whoever pushed her lands on top of her but rolls with the impact. Her dagger flies from her hand, and the thought of being unarmed near another tribute is the only thing that gives her the strength to roll over and, groaning, push herself up to her hands and knees.

“Hell and Oz,” a voice says. It’s shaky and thick, but familiar. Glinda’s eyes widen. “What were you _thinking_?”

Slowly, Glinda looks up and over at the tribute who just saved her life. Kneeling just a few feet away, scowling so fiercely that Glinda’s heart jumps to her throat, is none other than Elphaba Thropp.


	7. Chapter 7

Anger takes over, driving away her shock. Glinda’s eyes fall on her dagger, sitting on the ground between them, but before she can even move Elphaba reaches forward and grabs it. She shifts it from hand to hand and even has the nerve to grin at the blonde.

Glinda pulls herself to her feet. Elphaba stands too, and the blonde realizes how short and unarmed she is. Her other two blades are in her bag, but even without much experience Elphaba could stab her before she gets to them.

There are cameras on them. They’re probably the highlight of the Games right now. Glinda can’t afford to look scared or weak. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at the green girl.

“Well? Are you going to kill me, or what?” she asks. Elphaba raises an eyebrow.

“You were hunting me all that time and you didn’t kill me.”

Glinda blinks. She doesn’t have a response for that, so she just scowls even more. It doesn’t faze the green girl.

“Why were you hunting me, anyway?” she asks. Her voice is irritatingly casual, and she twirls the blade between her fingers with an ease that she shouldn’t possess. “Shouldn’t you be with that Career pack and all their friends?”

“They’re not worth my time.” The words come out before Glinda can think to stop them.

“Oh? But I am?” Elphaba seems amused, but then she tilts her head to the side, considering. “Wait…is this because I scored the same as you in training?”

Glinda clenches her fists. Elphaba laughs—actually _laughs_ —at her.

“It _is,_ isn’t it? Oh Oz. You poor little thing, upstaged by a Munchkin.”

“You didn’t upstage me,” Glinda hisses. “Your score came from sheer luck, if that. More likely than not they just wanted to paint a target on your back.”

Now the green girl scowls. “Yes, thanks for the reminder. But here’s just a little advice. Next time you’re hunting, you might want to avoid making it so the _target_ has to save your sorry life.”

“You didn’t have to save me!”

“Really? Would you rather I let that rock crush you?”

“It would be better than standing here with you.”

“I’m hurt, Miss Glinda.”

The sound of Elphaba saying her name sends a shiver down Glinda’s spine, and suddenly she’s completely done.

“If you’re going to kill me,” she growls. “Save me this headache and just do it already.”

Elphaba’s scowl vanishes from her face, leaving her looking just plain weary. “I’m not going to kill you,” she says quietly.

Glinda opens her mouth to respond, but the green girl’s reaction isn’t anything like what she expected. Elphaba stares at her as if waiting for something. Or maybe she’s just studying her. Glinda is suddenly dying to know what she’s thinking, but the green girl’s face is unreadable.

“I’m leaving.” Elphaba’s voice is low. “I suggest you do the same, before that alliance comes to check out all the noise. But don’t you dare follow me again.”

Glinda’s mind is racing, but she still can’t think of anything to say. Elphaba starts to back away, but she grins at her one last time.

“And thank you, Miss Glinda. This is a lovely blade.”

Then she’s gone, fading entirely into the forest.

 

***

 

As much as she hates it, Glinda follows Elphaba’s advice and stumbles back into the woods. Her anger at the green girl has faded, and though she’s still frustrated, she’s mostly just exhausted, sore, and confused.

She focuses on the exhausted and sore parts first. She inspects herself as she moves through the trees, not daring to stop in case the alliance is nearby. Luckily her pants and jacket stopped her from getting too scraped up. Her ankle is still throbbing, but she manages to walk around without that much trouble. It’s a good thing, too, because the sky is getting dark and she wants to be somewhere safe before night falls completely.

Climbing a tree is a pain, but at least she doesn’t have to be quiet about it this time. She gets as high up as she dares and settles in. She’s just pulled out her water bottle and a strip of dried meat when the sky lights up and the anthem starts to play.

There are no pictures in the air—no deaths today—and the music fades quickly. Glinda continues to stare up at the sky, wondering if the dancing lights will appear again tonight. She wonders if there are any cameras on her now. For the first time, she really hopes the answer is no.

She knows how close she came to having her picture displayed with the anthem tonight. The only reason it didn’t happen was because of Elphaba. It doesn’t make any sense. Glinda spends the entire Games hunting Elphaba, and then the green girl goes and _saves_ her. And for what? They’re in a fight to the death. Eventually one of them is going to die. There is no mercy in the arena. There can’t be.

Yet Elphaba spared her. She saved her life, and then she spared her.

What’s happening in the Emerald City right now? What are they saying about her and Elphaba? Glinda pictures the look of disgust on Morrible’s face. Has she lost the audience’s support? Do they think she’s weak now?

Maybe not. Maybe the people of the Emerald City are intrigued. Glinda certainly is. Maybe they’re all just waiting to see what happens next.

What _does_ happen next? Her only plan was to kill Elphaba. Maybe that’s still an option, but the thought of it makes Glinda shudder. Can she really kill someone she owes her life to?

Yes. She can, and she should. This is the _Hunger Games_. Only one tribute comes out, and Glinda has spent her entire life making sure that it will be her. Elphaba is a fool if she thinks showing a little mercy is going to help her.

A light breeze rustles through the trees, and Glinda pulls her blanket around herself. The sky is darker than last night, the clouds blocking any colorful lights that would shine through. The blonde is surprisingly disappointed by the thought.

What if her picture _had_ been shown up there? Would Elphaba stare up at it, like she did Boq’s? Would Jeron and the other Careers celebrate? Would anyone in the Emerald City be disappointed? _Only if they lost money,_ Glinda thinks bitterly. She scowls a little. She has always thought of the Emerald City as some magical, far-off place full of wonderful people. But the Gamemakers who probably caused that rockslide aren’t wonderful. The people betting against her—the ones who are probably mad that she survived—aren’t wonderful.

Glinda closes her eyes. Everything was perfectly clear just a few hours ago, yet now it’s all so confusing. This is Elphaba’s fault. Or Glinda’s fault for not killing her fast enough. Either way, there’s only one thing to do. She doesn’t even have a choice anymore. Who knows what will happen when she finds her, but in the morning, Glinda is going after Elphaba again.

 

***

 

She sleeps through the night but wakes early and abruptly, vivid images of Ama Clutch watching her picture flash across a television screen still fading from her mind.

The clouds stay in the sky and the fog has filled the valley again, making the morning dark and cold and all other kinds of miserable. Glinda is tempted to stay in her tree longer, to curl into the blanket and chase away the last of her dreams, but she knows better. If Avaric and the others aren’t nearby, they will be soon. She needs to move while she still can.

Her body aches from the day before, and she does her best to stretch as she goes. It occurs to her that she doesn’t really know where she is, where she’s going, who is around her, what she’s actually doing, how—

Glinda pulls out her dagger, as if that can ward off her doubts, and forces herself to keep walking. She’ll go back to the stream they found. It’s probably the only water source around here, which means Elphaba will have to show up there sooner or later.

Of course, it also means anyone wandering through here—like the alliance, for example—will also show up, but the blonde decides not to focus on that at the moment. Find the stream. She can worry about everything else later.

The morning is dreary, slow, and nerve-wracking. Glinda has the vague feeling that she’s only getting more lost, though it’s possible that’s just the fog making it impossible to see twenty feet in front of her. She’s tempted to just climb a tree and wait it out, but the sudden cannon fire not too far down the valley convinces her not to. The alliance must be close, and if they find her stuck up a tree…

She shudders at the thought and keeps moving.

Eventually she does find the stream. No one else is there, but she spots an apple core—eaten completely down to the seeds—tucked into a cluster of rocks not far from the water’s edge. It’s Elphaba’s. It has to be. Elphaba was here.

And now she’s gone. Glinda sits back on her heels and looks around. Her mind starts to wander, worrying about Elphaba’s trail and how far she’s gone and where the alliance is and whose cannon went off a couple hours ago.

When she’s sure no other tributes are nearby, she creeps toward the stream and fills up her water bottle. Surely she’ll be able to find some sign of which way Elphaba went. If she found the green girl once, she can do it again. She just needs to—

“Did you hear that? Water!”

Glinda curses under her breath and jerks her water bottle out of the stream, fumbling with the cap as she darts back into the cover of the trees. There isn’t time to run—they’re so close she can hear their feet crunching against the rocks on the other side of the water—so she ducks behind one of the larger trees and waits.

“Let’s fill our bottles and get out of here,” says Fiyero’s voice. Glinda lets out the breath she was holding. “That alliance is probably close.”

Glinda bites her lip. If she has to sneak away from both the Vinkans and the alliance, she won’t make it. She could jump up and run now, while they’re kneeling at the water, but one look at the bow slung across Sarima’s back tells her that wouldn’t be a good idea. She could fight them, but two on one would be difficult, and chances are the alliance would show up before she could kill them both.

And, if truth be told, she doesn’t want to kill them. Glinda screws her eyes shut. She _should_ , but she doesn’t. She just wants to find Elphaba.

She needs to get out unseen, but how? Her only advantage is that no one knows she’s here. Maybe if the alliance finds the Vinkans, she can slip away unnoticed. But that would mean certain death for Fiyero and Sarima.

 _Who cares?_ Glinda thinks. She digs her nails into the palms of her hands. She can’t afford to be soft. Not here. Not when it’s her life at risk.

Still, there has to be another way. Maybe she should just run. There’s a chance that Fiyero and Sarima won’t shoot or follow her, especially if they just want to get out of here safely. That has to be the best plan. She’s fast, and there’s plenty of cover in these trees. This will work. She’ll get away.

But while she’s building the courage to jump to her feet and run, she sees movement in the branches ahead of her. First one figure, then another, and another, until seven tributes have walked into her line of sight.

Glinda freezes. They haven’t seen her yet, huddled on the ground near her tree, but they will. They’re walking toward her, toward the stream, with Avaric and Shenshen in the front. The other Careers follow close behind, and Pfannee and the slender Vinkan girl trail the group a little. They all look excited—even Pfannee, though she seems a bit more beat up than the rest. Any second now, they’ll be absolutely thrilled. They won’t stop to taunt her. Jeron will throw a knife to prevent her from escaping, and if by some chance that doesn’t kill her, then Avaric and his sword will.

She can hear Fiyero and Sarima behind her, still moving around at the stream. If she stays, she’ll be seen. If she moves, she’ll be seen. For a moment she can’t decide. Her blood seems to still in her veins as she watches Avaric’s head turn toward her.

Her body snaps back to life just as he shouts something. Glinda think she hears the whistling of a knife, but she’s already rolling away and to her feet.

Fiyero and Sarima jump up as she crashes out of the woods. She tries to shout a warning, but her heart has jumped to her throat and she’s not sure whether or not the words ever actually make it out. She leaps over the stream and disappears back into the trees. She doesn’t dare look behind her, even when she hears the clanging of blades hitting blades. Fiyero and Sarima didn’t have time to run, and now they’re going to be slaughtered by Avaric and the others. The thought makes Glinda sick, but she pushes it away and keeps running. A cannon goes off.

Her mind and body numbs until she can’t feel the scrape of cool air in her throat or the burning of her muscles as she sprints through the forest. Her senses spread out, straining for any signs of the alliance behind her. A second cannon fires, which must mean they’re after her now.

But Glinda is fast, and she has at least a little bit of a head start. She can’t last forever, but neither can they. The shouting behind her gets more and more distant, then finally fades altogether. Glinda slows just enough to move more quietly through the woods and keeps going, putting as much distance between her and the alliance as possible.

 

***

 

Glinda is still moving when night falls. She realizes she’s heading south, and while she’s no longer running, she’s still moving quickly through the trees. The ground here is rockier, even though she’s moved away from the base of the mountains, and she finds a little cluster of boulders—on level ground this time—that give her enough shadow to hide in while the anthem plays.

There are three pictures tonight. Glinda feels her stomach twist as Sarima’s face lights up the sky. To her surprise, though, Fiyero isn’t next. Instead it’s Pfannee, followed by the last Munchkin boy—he must have been the one they killed that morning.

So Fiyero got away, and he or Sarima took down that obnoxious Munchkin girl in the process. Glinda isn’t sure if that makes her feel better or worse. Either way, she still feels sick.

She gets up once the anthem is over and the glow fades. She passed exhaustion a few hours ago, and now everything is just numb. Even if she feels safe, she won’t be able to sleep. And she definitely doesn’t feel safe. So she keeps moving instead.

She wonders where Elphaba is. Did the alliance drive her this way, too, or did she manage to slip past them? Glinda lets out a quiet sigh. Elphaba could be anywhere by now, in any direction. The arena seems huge all of a sudden, full of traps and tributes all set on killing her, and Glinda doesn’t even know where she’s going.

This must be what Ama Clutch meant. All her life Glinda has been training to survive, to win, but nothing could have prepared her for this. Nothing could have taught her how to deal with Boq’s peaceful face haunting her, or the guilt that surrounds her every time she thinks of Sarima’s image floating in the sky, or the unwelcome, ceaseless thought that she needs to get to Elphaba before something else does.

There’s no escape, even as she continues moving south. Nothing makes sense anymore. This isn’t what she has been looking forward to all her life. She doesn’t know what this is, but it’s not the Games she knows. For the first time, it doesn’t feel like a game at all.

But it is, and even now she’s being filmed. The people of Oz are watching her stumble through the trees. She wonders what she must look like, scraped up and exhausted and questioning everything she has ever known.

She’s starting to trip over her own feet. Her vision keeps blurring in and out. She needs to find somewhere to sleep, but at this point she doesn’t think she even has the strength to climb a tree. With the Emerald City watching, she doesn’t really want to try and fail. There has to be somewhere else she can rest in relative safety.

She keeps searching, trying to be as quiet as possible as she moves across the rocky ground. In the end, the only reason she finds a place is because she trips into it. It’s a little cave, set into the ground and concealed by a cluster of thick, thorny bushes. Glinda ignores the sting of the thorns and pushes her way into the cave. It smells like wet dirt and is barely wide or tall enough for the blonde to curl up in, but it’s deep enough into the ground that she can’t see out, meaning no one will be able to see in. She pulls the blanket out of her bag and pulls it around herself, then leans back against the cave wall and sets the pack in front of her, blocking herself from the entrance even more.

The memory of cannon fire echoes in her mind. She never imagined death could be this haunting, and she hasn’t even killed anyone. Tomorrow night, it could be her photo in the sky. It could be Elphaba’s.

Somehow, it’s the second option that seems worse.

“I have to find her,” Glinda mumbles, her eyes sliding shut as the last grasps of consciousness leave her. “Tomorrow, I have to…”


	8. Chapter 8

Glinda is hungry when she wakes up.

This is the first thing that registers. The second is that she’s cold, and the third is that she’s incredibly, painfully sore.

She sits up a little, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders and blinking away the sleep. There’s light shining into her cave, but she can’t see outside from here. She sets her bag to the side and crawls forward to peer out.

The sun is moving toward the middle of the sky, but the fog still hangs thick throughout the valley. Mid-morning. She probably hasn’t missed anything.

Glinda moves back into her cave and immediately starts digging through her bag for something to eat. She needs to move soon—the thought of being cornered in here is terrifying—but she allows herself to have a small breakfast of bread and fruit and water as she reorganizes her supplies and tries to come up with a plan.

The result is pretty disappointing, and she ends up just shouldering her bag and heading out of the cave. Her muscles ache and protest as she stands up and stretches. She shifts her pack and takes a step forward, but then stops, realizing that she has no idea where she’s going.

The arena suddenly seems even more daunting than the night before. She has no idea which tributes are around here, if any. She doesn’t know where the alliance is, or how to find Elphaba. She doesn’t even know which direction she should start walking in.

 _Don’t panic,_ she tells herself. If anyone in the Emerald City is watching her, she can’t show how scared she is. She has to be brave. She has to be in control. And since she has neither courage nor control at the moment, she has to pretend.

Glinda sets her jaw and starts walking. Whatever she runs into—as long as it’s not the alliance—she can handle.

She makes her way through the forest. She avoids going anywhere too open or too rocky, and the next few hours pass quietly. At least, nothing happens to her. She hears the echoing grumble of rocks crumbling down a mountainside, but there is no accompanying cannon. Around noon she passes a stream, bigger than the one she and Elphaba found earlier, and a series of footprints in the soft ground beside it. She can’t tell if they’re recent or not, though, so she simply makes sure to erase her own prints and keeps moving.

Eventually the blonde finds a familiar type of bush, with whole clusters of berries torn off. They look exactly like the ones Elphaba always eats. It’s subtle and honestly a bit ridiculous. There’s no proof that the green girl was actually here, but Glinda doesn’t care. She is suddenly certain that Elphaba is nearby.

Another hour proves her right. She catches only glimpses of the green girl—a flash of dark hair, or a boot or jacket, or that hopeless little pack of food that has to be nearly empty by now.

She doesn’t want Elphaba to find out she’s here and trick her again, so Glinda stays farther behind and keeps an eye out for any other tributes that might come wandering through. She isn’t quite sure what her intentions are anymore, but she doesn’t let herself think about it too much. She follows Elphaba. At this point, it doesn’t even feel like a choice.

They move aimlessly. There are enough streams around here that Elphaba doesn’t need to worry about water—not that Glinda will fall for that trick again—and they don’t see any signs of other tributes. If Elphaba ever notices the blonde, she doesn’t show it.

Night falls and Elphaba makes her shelter out of thick bushes and bent tree branches. Glinda scurries up her own tree and ties herself in. Both girls sit quietly and gaze up at the clear sky.

It happens during the anthem. As she watches the Emerald City’s emblem appear in the sky, the tiny silver parachute floats gently down into her lap. Glinda clutches the box attached and stares wide-eyed. She knows she has sponsors, but what has Morrible given her? And why now, when she’s surviving just fine?

After the music fades and the sky grows dark again, she carefully detaches the parachute and inspects the box. It’s long, thin, and fairly light. Glinda looks down, but Elphaba has retreated into her shelter, and no one else is around. She shifts the box in her hands and slides a nail into the groove of the lid, flipping it open.

It’s a knife—small and straight and meant for throwing. Glinda swallows hard. Morrible’s message is perfectly clear. Kill Elphaba, now.

Glinda gently closes the box and twists around to tuck it in her bag. As confusing as everything is, her mind is made up on this part. She can’t kill Elphaba. She won’t.

 

***

 

She doesn’t think she’ll sleep, and for a while she simply sits up watching the colorful lights dance through the sky, but eventually Glinda drifts off and stays that way until morning.

She wakes with a jolt. It’s freezing, probably because the sky is still mostly dark and she had fallen asleep without pulling the blanket out of her bag. Glinda quietly unties herself and stuffs the rope back in her bag. She touches the box from the night before. What will Morrible do when she realizes that Glinda has no intention of killing Elphaba? Not that it really matters. There’s nothing the mentor can do now that she’s in the arena, except maybe deny her gifts. Still, the knife could be useful. Glinda pulls it out and glances down to check on Elphaba.

Her stomach drops. The shelter is gone, the pine needles scattered around. The green girl has disappeared. _Again_.

Glinda pulls the bag over her shoulders and sticks the throwing knife between her teeth. It’s still early—maybe Elphaba didn’t make it far. If she climbs up a few branches, she might still be able to find her.

The sun is starting to peek over the eastern mountains, but it’s still dark in the forest. Glinda crawls perilously out onto one of the branches, trying desperately to see through the shadowy trees, but it’s no use. She can’t see a thing. She can’t hear anything either—not footsteps, or the rustling of branches, or even some quiet bird waking up the valley.

That’s weird. Every dawn the birds have been awake and fluttering around, calling out to each other. But this morning the entire forest is silent. Still. Holding its breath. Glinda narrows her eyes and leans out further.

She only sees it because there’s a break in the trees. A Vinkan boy is moving slowly through the woods. His knees are bent and his face is hard, staring forward. He holds a bow loosely in front of him, but Glinda can see the arrow nocked and ready.

_Elphaba._

The blade between her teeth is the only thing that keeps her from crying out. It takes all her self-control not to just dive off the branch right then and there. Glinda scrambles back to the trunk and slides down to the ground. She can feel her arms and legs starting to tremble, even as she grips the throwing knife and takes off running toward the boy. He can’t get to Elphaba. She won’t let him.

But in her panic she’s too loud, too careless, and the Vinkan spins toward her, lifting his bow. She jumps behind a tree as the arrow goes whistling past her. Before the boy can pull out another, she tightens her grip on the knife, moves back into view, and throws.

It is quite possibly the best throw of her life. The blade moves too fast for her to follow in the dark, but she knows when it hits by the look in the boy’s eyes. The cannon is immediate, thundering above them.

Glinda watches him fall. Her knees tremble beneath her, threatening to send her collapsing to the ground beside him. She needs to move. She needs to disappear before the alliance comes. She needs to find Elphaba.

She should take the boy’s stuff, but his bag and arrows are trapped between his body and the ground, and his glassy eyes freeze her in place. She doesn’t even know his name.

 _Don’t be weak,_ she thinks. _They’re watching. You can’t be weak. You can’t._

Glinda sets her jaw and draws her dagger. She forces her shoulders back and her chin up as she walks away. After a few moments she can hear the hovercraft over the arena, lowering down to scoop up the Vinkan boy. She doesn’t feel sick like she did with Sarima, but she feels empty. As if part of her is being lifted away with the boy she just killed.

 _Killed_. Glinda’s hard expression falters, and suddenly all she wants is to find Elphaba. But where is she? Running? Hiding? Watching?

“Elphaba?” Glinda calls softly. She probably shouldn’t be making any noise, but as far as the green girl is concerned, none of her decisions really make sense anymore. “Look, I know you’re around here,” she says, louder this time. Her grip on her dagger loosens. “Elphie, please.”

There’s a stretch of silence, then, “Elphie?”

Glinda spins around just as Elphaba emerges. She seems to materialize out of the trees, a cold glare on her face and a soft glowing around her fists. Glinda takes a step back, holding up her hands.

“I’m not—I don’t want to—”

“Why are you following me?” Elphaba demands, cutting her off.

“We need to get out of here,” says Glinda.

“ _We’re_ not doing anything. Now answer the question.”

“Elphaba, please, you heard that cannon.”

“Even less reason to trust you. Now tell me why you’re following me before I blast your head off.” She raises a fist, and the glow brightens into flames. Glinda refuses to step back again.

“Those careers are out hunting, and nothing will make them happier than finding _you_ ,” she says, as firmly as she can manage. “They’ll be on their way right now. It’s not safe here.”

“Aw, blondie, are you worried?”

Glinda resists the urge to growl. Elphaba’s glare shifts into a smirk, and it’s so infuriating that the blonde hardly notices the flames flicker out.

“Why aren’t you taking me seriously?” she hisses. “Look, maybe I didn’t kill you, but they will. They won’t even hesitate.”

“And why do you care?” the green girl asks suddenly, stepping closer. “Why in Oz should you give a damn about me?”

“Aren’t you listening? Because they’ll kill you!”

“Shouldn’t that make you happy?”

“No!”

“Oh, I get it. You just want to make sure you’re the one to get me.”

“No, I—”

Elphaba holds her arms out. “Well go on, blondie. I’m right here.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Then what is it? Why are you even here?”

“I don’t know!” Glinda yells. The sound carries through the trees, and she swears she hears someone calling in response. She lowers her voice. “I don’t know, okay? But ever since you saved me, nothing has made sense. I don’t know why, but I can’t stand the thought of them killing you. I know you don’t trust me—you have every reason not to—but for right now, please, we need to go, before they get here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Elphaba hisses.

“I just saved your life!”

“You killed an innocent boy.”

“He was _hunting_ you!”

The green girl hesitates, and in the silence they hear voices coming through the woods. Glinda looks up and meets Elphaba’s gaze.

Something passes between them—she’s not sure what—but the green girl nods ever so slightly. Glinda takes her wrist and starts to move, but Elphaba jerks away and grabs her instead, leading them away and toward the mountains.


	9. Chapter 9

They move quickly as the sky lightens above them. Despite her reluctance, Elphaba’s grip never leaves Glinda’s wrist. She leads them higher up the slope of the mountains, away from the sounds of the alliance.

The green girl skids and jerks to the side, dragging Glinda with her. The blonde wants to ask where they’re going, but she can’t find the breath, let alone the courage, to speak. It doesn’t matter. Soon enough she hears the sound of running water ahead of them. Elphaba turns again, and Glinda catches sight of a small cliff in front of them, with white water pouring off and towards them.

“The falls,” Elphaba says when they reach it.

“What?”

The green girl yanks the dagger from her hand and pushes her toward the water. “Behind the waterfall. Go.”

Glinda feels unnervingly bare without a weapon, but Elphaba’s glare and the thought of Avaric’s gang behind them don’t leave much room for argument. She moves uncertainly toward the cliff. It’s only about ten feet tall, but the stream pouring off of it is deep and wide. The water thunders by her, freezing spray covering her instantly. She feels another nudge at her back and stumbles forward, hugging the rock face.

Is there really something here, or is Elphaba just trying to trick her again? The current is fast enough and the water cold enough to make the stream dangerous. And the cliff she’s edging along right now is too slippery to get a steady grip. She can only imagine the Emerald City at this moment, watching her obey the same person she’s supposed to be killing. But what choice does she have?

Glinda carefully places a foot on a rock sticking out of the stream and leans forward. The water from the falls soaks through her almost instantly.

“ _Hurry!_ ” Elphaba hisses. Glinda takes a deep breath and shifts forward. Her hand reaches through the falls, expecting to grab and hold onto the rock beneath. She clutches empty air instead, and the shock causes her to lose her balance. She tips forward, her feet sliding on the wet rock, and makes a last minute decision to jump toward the falls.

There’s a moment of pounding, freezing water, then she lands on cold stone and rolls. She opens her eyes in time to see Elphaba appear through the falls and land—far more gracefully, Glinda notes—beside her.

“Took you long enough,” the green girl mutters. She pulls Glinda to her knees and nudges her toward the back wall of the cave. It’s bigger than the one she slept in a couple nights ago, but not by much. Glinda scoots back against the rock, turning to face a crouching Elphaba.

“Give me back my dagger,” she demands.

“So you can run me through with it? No thank you,” says Elphaba. “Keep your voice down. They might be close.”

“You really think they can hear us through the water?”

“I’d rather not take the chance. Now shut up.”

Glinda huffs but stays quiet. Elphaba leans against the wall and slides down until she’s sitting across from her.

They wait. Elphaba’s eyes search Glinda’s face, and the blonde has to resist the urge to squirm under her gaze. She lifts her chin a little instead and presses her lips together. Elphaba raises an eyebrow.

Time passes slowly. The water pounds around them, and the cave is wet enough that their clothes don’t even begin to dry out. Glinda starts to shiver after a little while, but Elphaba’s stare seems to pin her in place, preventing her from pulling out her blanket.

The noise is unnerving. If anyone approaches the stream outside, they don’t hear it. Glinda doesn’t know how long they sit there in silence, but every second makes her want to scream.

Elphaba breaks the tension first. She doesn’t say anything, but she shifts a little and her shoulders relax. Glinda lets out a breath and wonders just how long she was holding it.

“Can I have it back now?” she asks softly.

The green girl twists the blade in her fingers. “No. I don’t trust you.”

“You realize I have another one in my bag, right?”

Elphaba shrugs. “I guess we’re evenly matched, then. Not that either of us feels like killing each other at the moment.”

She furrows her brow. “If you don’t think I’m going to kill you, why don’t you trust me?”

“Look around, blondie,” Elphaba says, almost grinning. “It’s the Hunger Games. You can’t trust anyone.”

“So you _do_ think I could kill you.”

“Oh, I have no doubt that you _could_. But your record so far suggests that you _won’t_. You’re too afraid, or maybe you actually have a conscience. I don’t know.”

“I’m not _afraid_ ,” Glinda hisses.

“Relax,” Elphaba says, scowling at her. “There’s no way they managed to get cameras in here. Your image or whatever is safe.”

Glinda opens her mouth, shuts it, then tries again. “I could have killed you. Before.”

“Before what?” she asks. “When you killed the kid that was hunting me? Or when I saved you from being crushed by falling rocks?”

“Before.”

“What, when _you_ were hunting me?” Elphaba seems amused.

“Yes.”

“Please. You followed me for nearly two days and you still didn’t do anything. You weren’t going to kill me.”

“Why not?”

Elphaba raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I be asking _you_ that?”

She grits her teeth. “I wanted to. From the moment I saw you, I wanted to kill you.”

There’s a short silence while the green girl considers. “I don’t think you did,” she says slowly, as if actually thinking it out. “You wanted to kill everyone, sure, because you wanted to win. But you weren’t thinking of me in particular.”

“How would _you_ know?” Glinda hisses. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know _some_ things about you.”

“Like what?”

“You’re a spoiled little girl from a Career district. You’ve been learning how to kill things your entire life, and you _enjoy_ it. You _want_ to be here. You think it will bring you fame, or fortune, or whatever. You don’t realize how sick this whole thing is, and why should you? Where you come from, no one goes into the Games unless they want to. You were raised to think the Wizard is some merciful, caring leader, when in fact he’s nothing but a cruel, twisted tyrant who forces innocent children into a fight to the death for _entertainment_.”

Glinda leans back. For a moment she’s hurt, but she’s distracted by the blaze in Elphaba’s eyes and the sparks dancing around her fists. Elphaba follows her gaze down and shakes her hands to get rid of the magic.

“That’s another reason,” Glinda says, mostly to herself. Elphaba looks up at her and tilts her head. “Your magic,” the blonde explains. “I’ve always wanted to learn sorcery, but I’ve never…” She trails off, watching Elphaba’s eyes roll.

“What a great reason, Miss Glinda. I have something you don’t, so you want to kill me. Real mature.”

“No,” she says. “I didn’t want to kill you.”

“You spent nearly two days hunting me.”

“I didn’t want to kill you until after the training scores,” she amends.

“Ha! I knew that was why!” Elphaba actually grins, and Glinda finds herself returning it. They catch themselves at the same time and quickly look away. Elphaba shifts and clears her throat.

“So…a reason for what?”

“What?”

“You said my magic was another reason. A reason for what?”

Glinda blinks and takes a slow breath. “I…I’m not sure. A reason to find you again? To not kill you in the first place?” Both sound true, but not quite right. She tries again. “A reason why…why I was so interested in you.”

“Glinda.” There’s something in Elphaba’s voice, something that changes her name into something not quite familiar, but not entirely unfamiliar, either. Glinda wants nothing but to hear it again.

Instead, Elphaba sighs. “You shouldn’t have followed me again.”

“I was worried about you,” Glinda breathes. She feels her cheeks heat up, even as she shivers in the freezing cave.

“Yeah, see, that right there doesn’t make sense.”

“I know.”

“At least one of us is going to die in this arena.”

“I know.”

“A couple days ago you were bent on stabbing me in the back, or maybe the front, I don’t know what you were planning. Maybe even slitting my neck, or—”

“ _Stop._ ” Glinda’s hiss slides into a whimper. “Please.”

Elphaba stares at her. After a moment she shakes her head.

“I don’t understand you.”

“Really?” Glinda challenges, her defense rising again. “Because a minute ago you apparently knew everything about me.”

Elphaba presses her lips together. “Well, was I wrong? How much of that is true?”

“A week ago, all of it. Now…” Glinda lowers her gaze. “I don’t know.”

She expects Elphaba to roll her eyes, or laugh, or mock her. She doesn’t expect her to nod slowly and look at her with a soft kind of understanding.

“The other Careers,” Elphaba says slowly. “You never hung out with them.”

“I told you, they’re not worth my time.”

“But you didn’t even pretend. You snubbed them from the start.”

“I was set on winning. There’s no point in pretending to be friends with someone if you’re just going to end up killing each other.”

“Yet you’re here,” Elphaba points out. She pauses. “No, wait. _Was_. You said _was_. As in, past tense.”

“So?”

“You _were_ set on winning. Not anymore?”

Glinda’s shoulders slump. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

Elphaba sighs again. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You…” She bites her lip and shakes her head a little. “It would have been better if you didn’t meet me, or if you killed me right away.”

“You wish I had killed you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have a chance here. But if you didn’t think twice about me, then you wouldn’t be so confused now, and you could probably win this thing and make it out alive.”

Glinda’s brow furrows. “Why do you care if I make it out alive?”

“You saved my life,” Elphaba says with a shrug.

“You saved me from that rockslide.”

“You could have killed me, and you didn’t.”

“You could have, too.”

Elphaba meets her eyes, and Glinda isn’t sure if her gaze is unnerving or steadying. Either way, they seem to come to an understanding. Or maybe just an impasse. Elphaba brings her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them, watching Glinda.

“So what happens now?” the blonde asks.

“We shouldn’t even be near each other,” Elphaba says.

“If you tell me to leave again, I’m just going to follow you.”

The green girl takes a breath. “I figured.”

“There are still plenty of tributes out there,” Glinda offers.

“True,” Elphaba says slowly. “If you’re with me instead of stalking me, it’ll be easier to keep an eye on you.”

“True.”

“I don’t trust you.” This time when Elphaba says it, she sounds a little less sure.

“You’d be stupid to,” says Glinda. “Besides, for all I know _you_ could kill _me._ ”

“Me? I’m harmless.” Elphaba grins again, with only a little hesitation, and Glinda smiles just at the sight of it. “So…what now?”

Glinda looks around their cave. “We’re going to freeze in here. Besides, not being able to see or hear outside is terrifying me.”

“You think the others will be gone by now?”

She thinks for a moment. “Probably. If they knew this cave was here, they would have found us by now. Since they haven’t, my guess is they’ve moved on. Maybe they’ve even gone back to the Cornucopia.”

“If we die, I blame you.”

Glinda sticks her tongue out before she can stop herself. She turns her head away, blushing again, but Elphaba just lets out a small cackle.

Glinda crawls toward the edge of the cave, hesitating as the spray from the falls hits her. Elphaba nudges her forward, more gently this time, and she gathers her courage and jumps out toward the water’s edge. She lands mostly on solid ground, but Elphaba is a little less lucky and falls halfway into the stream. Glinda grabs her arm automatically.

Elphaba’s fingers lock around her elbow, and her other arm reaches up to lock behind Glinda’s shoulders. The blonde grabs a handful of her jacket near the small of her back. They’re so close she can feel Elphaba’s body heat, even through the freezing water that soaks them both. For a moment all Glinda can see is smooth emerald skin and a small, intricate charm hanging on a chain around her neck.

Their gazes meet and linger as she pulls the green girl onto dry land. The arena is quiet around them, filled with nothing but trees and the water and the occasional squirrel or songbird rustling in the branches. It could be any forest, in any part of Oz, except for the fact that it isn’t.

Elphaba clears her throat and steps back. Glinda reaches down to pick up the dagger Elphaba dropped. She twirls it in her fingers for a moment, then, her eyes fixed on her feet, she holds it out.

Elphaba takes it, her fingers brushing over Glinda’s. The blonde waves her arm, indicating for her to lead the way, and tries to remember all the reasons why the arena is anything _but_ just a forest.

 

***

 

They travel quietly, hardly speaking, but Glinda’s thoughts never seem to end. She finds herself trailing behind at times, lost in her own mind, and has to jerk back to reality to catch up with the green girl.

Not that Elphaba ever tries to leave her behind. She moves quickly, but every so often she glances sideways or back at her. Glinda doesn’t know if it’s out of worry or suspicion, but at the moment she doesn’t particularly care. Despite their silence, travelling with Elphaba is comfortable. The air doesn’t seem as cold, the arena doesn’t seem as big. It’s as if the green girl takes a slight edge off the Games, just by being near her.

They don’t see anyone the rest of the afternoon. Once in a while they’ll hear shouting, but it’s distant and echoing, bouncing off the sides of the mountains that surround them. At least, Glinda hopes that’s the case. Sound moves so strangely here in the valley, it makes it hard to tell.

They settle down early, just as the sun starts falling. Without a word, Glinda helps Elphaba make her little shelter on the ground. Elphaba glances curiously at her when they finish, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she ducks inside and starts shifting leaves and branches out of the way. Glinda slides her bag off her shoulders and sticks it inside the shelter, but then settles down on the ground outside. She brings her knees to her chest and stares up at the darkening sky, waiting.

Elphaba comes out and sits next to her just as the anthem starts to play. They watch the sky glow softly. The only tribute that comes up is the Vinkan boy Glinda killed that morning. She trembles at the sight, and the twists in her stomach make her suddenly glad she hasn’t eaten much all day.

Elphaba looks sideways at her. “I guess I never actually thanked you,” she says.

“For killing him?”

“No. For saving me.” Elphaba sits so still, so steady next to her. Glinda wonders how she does it.

“You’re welcome.” She mostly mouths the words, but Elphaba seems to understand.

“Did you know his name?” she asks.

“No,” Glinda says quietly. “Did you?”

“I made a point to learn as few names as possible.”

“You knew my name.”

Elphaba pauses. “You said you were interested in me, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe…you weren’t the only one.”

With that, Elphaba gets up and crawls back into their shelter. The forest sighs around Glinda, the chill in the breeze telling her to follow her, but she still can’t bring herself to move until long after the shock of Elphaba’s words fades away.

She finds Elphaba curled up tightly on the ground with her eyes open. Neither girl speaks as Glinda pulls her blanket out of her bag. She glances down at the green girl, shivering slightly in her bed of pine needles.

“Here,” Glinda breathes, unfolding the blanket. “It’s plenty big enough.”

For a long moment, Elphaba just studies her. Her eyes are dark and hard, and Glinda starts to feel a little foolish, holding out a corner of the blanket toward her.

But then Elphaba scoots closer and even holds the blanket up so Glinda can lie down beside her. They lay facing each other, about a foot of space between them, not quite meeting each other’s eyes.

“I can keep watch first,” Elphaba says cautiously.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Go ahead and sleep.”

Glinda bites her lip and ducks her head. It feels weird to say good night, so she settles for not saying anything. But just before she falls asleep, she hears, barely, Elphaba’s whisper.

“I don’t trust you.”

This time, she only sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.


	10. Chapter 10

Elphaba wakes her for her watch a few hours before dawn. Glinda scoots out of the blanket they’ve wrapped themselves in and moves to sit near the shelter’s entrance. She can’t really see much through the branches they’ve twisted together, but the air is a little colder here and it helps keep her awake.

Not much happens, and eventually Glinda’s mind wanders. She finds herself going through the tributes in her head, drawing little marks in the dirt as she counts them off.

Nine died at the Cornucopia. She shivers and pushes down the image of little Boq stepping off his platform. The last Munchkin boy, Pfannee, and Sarima were next. Again, Glinda has to shove away her guilt at the thought of Sarima. And then there was the Vinkan boy she killed yesterday. Glinda swallows and looks down at the tallies she made. Thirteen tributes dead. How many days has it been? She has to think about it for a moment.

Six. They’ve been here six days. It feels like years. Or maybe just hours. She doesn’t know.

Elphaba wakes up so quietly that Glinda doesn’t realize it until she’s sitting next to her and handing her the blanket. Together they watch the sky pale through the little holes in their shelter. No words pass for a while, until eventually Elphaba clears her throat and pushes her way out into the open.

“I should have gotten a drink at the stream yesterday,” she says as Glinda crawls out behind her. Elphaba starts dismantling the shelter, her movements significantly less clumsy than the first day.

Glinda digs around in her bag. “I have a bottle, I think it’s full. Here.” She holds out the water bottle for Elphaba, who takes it after just a moment’s hesitation.

“Thanks.”

When every sign of their presence has been erased they start moving. Neither one of them has a specific destination, so they head northeast, hugging the base of the mountains.

They feel more confident today, ever so slightly more secure, and the occasional conversation rises out of their quiet travel.

The first time is when Elphaba makes a small noise in the back of her throat. Glinda slows down and looks over at her.

“You okay?”

Instead of answering, the green girl holds out the dagger she’s been carrying all day. Glinda feels her lips twitch.

“Keep it,” she says. “I still have my other one.”

“And I still have the first one I took from you.”

Glinda looks at her, glancing up and down with her brow furrowed. Elphaba grins and reaches down to her hip, pulling the blade seemingly out of nothing. She laughs out loud at Glinda’s expression.

“Concealing charm,” she says. “I was practicing, and it seemed kind of useful.”

“That’s…I didn’t even…”

“Impressive, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

They walk on.

Glinda starts the next conversation. She waits as long as possible, not quite wanting to break the companionable quiet that falls over them as they walk, but eventually her curiosity wins out. There are so many questions—so many mysteries around the green girl—that she doesn’t know what to ask first. Then she remembers the necklace she noticed yesterday.

“That charm around your neck,” Glinda asks. Elphaba’s hand automatically reaches up to the necklace. “What is it?”

“Do you mean what is it, or what is it for?”

“…Both?”

Elphaba chuckles. “It’s just a charm. Colored glass, hand-made. It’s nothing secret or useful or anything.”

“No, no way that’s handmade. It’s too intricate,” Glinda says, stepping closer to peer at the charm. She doesn’t think anything of it until she feels Elphaba’s breath almost at her cheek. Glinda stumbles back, feeling the heat rise to her face.

“Um.” Elphaba seems to be struggling with words. “I-it, uh, it is. A Quadling named Turtle Heart made it.”

“Turtle Heart?” The name sounds familiar to Glinda. “Wasn’t he a victor?”

“Yeah, a few years ago, when I was…three? Maybe four?”

“How did you know him?”

Elphaba shifts her pack onto her other shoulder. “My grandfather is the Eminent Thropp. Every year during the Victory Tour, he hosts a dinner for the visiting victor and company.” Her voice is bitter, and Glinda suddenly remembers what Morrible said about the Thropp family.

“So that’s how you met him?”

Her lips twitch. “Yeah. He came from a family of glassblowers, and his Emerald City representative kept having him show off his skills.” She lowers her voice, glancing around as if she can see the cameras placed around the arena. “He obviously hated it—the attention, the celebration, all of it. I don’t remember much else about him, except that he was much calmer after all the Emerald City people went to bed. He made the necklace for me and I’ve kept it ever since.”

“Huh.” The story is strangely captivating to Glinda—not unlike the green girl herself. “I never imagined you to be the jewelry type.”

“It’s something to remember home. Don’t you have a token from Frottica?”

“No.” Glinda looks down. “I…didn’t even think about it.”

She feels Elphaba staring at her, but looking up doesn’t seem like an option. She just shrugs and starts walking again. When had they stopped? No, it doesn’t matter. Elphaba follows her and doesn’t comment, and for a long while it’s quiet again.

 

***

 

“So…Elphie?”

Noon has come and gone by the time they speak again. Glinda has fallen so deep in her thoughts that Elphaba’s voice startles her. Her head jerks up to see the green girl smirking at her, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh.” Glinda scratches the back of her neck, running her fingers through her hair. “I don’t…I’m not really sure where it came from. It’s just easier to say, I guess.”

“It’s perky.”

“I think it suits you.” She giggles at the look Elphaba gives her. “Not because it’s _perky_. It just…It’s a different side of you.”

“And you think you know me well enough to know my different sides?”

Glinda bites her lip. “Well, some of them.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Elphaba is the girl who stole my dagger and keeps saying she doesn’t trust me. But Elphie is the one who saved me from the rockslide and who wears a handmade charm around her neck.”

She works up the courage to glance over at Elphaba, and is pleasantly surprised to see her looking thoughtful.

This is the conversation that seems to be the tipping point. Some part of Elphaba’s defense comes down and stays down, and—perhaps even more surprising—Glinda leaps at the opportunity. They talk, quietly but endlessly, sharing stories about their pasts, their families, their homes.

Glinda tells her about her small house on the outskirts of town. She tells her about being the smallest kid at the training academy. Mostly, she talks about Ama Clutch—how she loves to sit in her rocking chair and knit, how she is always awake to have tea and breakfast with her before school, how she actually raised her, far more than her parents ever did.

She says this last part without thinking about the cameras that are probably recording their every move. Glinda inhales sharply and looks down at her feet.

Elphaba glances around them. “It’s okay,” she says softly. “They try to keep the districts so separated, they’re probably editing out this entire conversation.”

Glinda lets out a breath but stays quiet.

“So, your Ama.” Elphaba watches her carefully as she speaks. “She seems pretty great.”

That almost makes Glinda smile. “She is. You actually remind me of her, a little bit.”

“I remind you of an old woman?”

Now she really does smile. She looks up at Elphaba, who is trying hard to keep the scowl on her face. “Not like that. You’re both very strong-willed, and not afraid of speaking your mind. And both of you are smart.” She glances down again, letting out a breath. “Smarter than I am, at least.”

Elphaba’s forehead wrinkles. “What are you talking about? Of course you’re smart.”

“I can be clever, or resourceful, or whatever,” says Glinda, “But only because I was trained to be.”

“What do you mean?”

She takes a moment to respond. Glinda has always thought of herself as intelligent, talented, special. And in the arena, she is. But outside the arena? What would she be if she wasn’t a tribute? She trained and trained until she became powerful, dangerous, deadly. But is that really all she is?

Yes. Yes it is. She’s a killer—it’s all she ever wanted to be—and outside these Games she is absolutely useless.

Elphaba is still looking at her, so she half-heartedly mumbles something that sounds like, “I don’t know.” She can tell Elphaba doesn’t believe her, but these thoughts are starting to make her feel sick.

Elphaba opens her mouth to say something, but Glinda is saved by the sudden rumbling that echoes through the valley. Both girls subconsciously take a step closer to each other as they turn toward the source of the sound. Glinda sees dust rising from one of the mountainsides, hears the crash and crumble of rocks, and feels a shudder run down her spine.

“Unpleasant memories?” Elphaba asks, glancing down at her.

For a long moment all she can do is stare at the mountain. There’s no sound of a cannon, but she swears she hears shouting. Sound is so weird here in the valley.

Finally she rolls her eyes at Elphaba and turns back around to keep walking. “It’s okay,” she says. “They weren’t all bad.”

Glinda bites the inside of her cheek. She doesn’t even know what she means by that. She expects Elphaba to roll her eyes, raise an eyebrow, maybe even make some teasing remark. Instead, she looks up to see her cheeks flushing a darker green.

The sight is oddly pleasing.

As the day goes on, the girls learn more and more about each other. Glinda is fascinated with Elphaba’s tales of Munchkinland, of the endless farmlands and the winding, crumbling path of the Yellow Brick Road, of the ancient, castle-like Colwen Grounds. She’s especially interested in her family—her mother, dead from drug abuse by the time Elphaba was old enough to go into the reaping, her father, a fiery preacher who almost always has the Wizard’s men breathing down his neck, her brother, still too young to be chosen as tribute.

“Tell me about your sister,” says Glinda after a while. Elphaba hesitates, her walls coming up again, and Glinda wonders if she’s crossed a line. She feels a slight panic at the thought of Elphaba ending the conversation and quickly continues. “I mean, you volunteered for her. You must care about her a lot.”

Elphaba snorts. “You want to know about Nessarose? Her condition—I’m sure you saw it in the videos—leaves her almost completely dependent. She requires constant care, and between Nanny and I, she gets it.”

“Nanny?” Glinda asks. “She was at the reaping, right? The woman you gave Nessarose to?”

“Yeah.” Elphaba sighs, and a moment passes before she speaks again. “Nessa is ridiculously religious, like our father. But she’s stubborn as anything, too.”

“Like you.”

“Miss Glinda, I’m insulted.” But Elphaba grins, the amusement reaching her eyes, and Glinda feels as if she’s won something.

“Good. Tell me more.”

Elphaba rolls her eyes. “She’s irritable and bossy, she can hold a grudge forever, and she has an incredible tendency for condescension.”

“Wow, so much for caring about her, then.”

“Are you kidding?” says Elphaba. “I’m completely devoted to her.”

Glinda laughs, though Elphaba is being entirely serious. She asks about Nanny next, and the stories Elphaba tells her are so ridiculous that Glinda wishes she could meet the old woman—or, more importantly, that Ama Clutch could meet her. She thinks the two would get along all too well.

One thing they never do, though, is talk about the Games.

It’s not like they forget. Elphaba can make the hours pass by—she can even, astonishingly, make her feel a little safer—but Glinda never quite forgets where she is, what she’s doing, what a mistake this is going to end up being. But they just don’t talk about it. Really, how can they?

The day begins to fade around them, and they let their conversation settle into comfortable silence. Glinda twirls one of her daggers in her hand and lets the quiet whisper of the breeze put her at ease.

They make camp while there’s still some light in the valley. Building the makeshift shelter takes even less time than the night before, and Glinda is surprised at how well they work together—they move automatically, wordlessly, as naturally as if they’ve been doing it all their lives. It scares her, and at the same time makes her feel pleasantly warm.

There are no pictures that night. Eleven tributes still remain. Glinda doesn’t really know why that’s so relieving.

She glances sideways at Elphaba as the sky goes dark. There’s one question she’s wanted to ask all day, maybe since the beginning of the Games, but she’s afraid of saying something wrong.

She tries anyway.

“Hey, Elphie?” Elphaba makes a short, hum-like sound. “Can I ask…can you tell me about Boq?”

There’s a long silence, and Glinda fears she really has said something wrong. But then Elphaba just shakes her head, her lips twitching into a weary sort of smile. “Dear old Boq. He was the smartest boy in our school, always had a book in his hand.”

“So you did know him. Before.”

“Yeah. We were friends, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not exactly that good at friends.”

Now _there’s_ something they have in common. Glinda waits for her to go on. Elphaba shrugs a little and clears her throat.

“There isn’t much to tell, really,” she says. “He was intelligent. He was kind. He was going to take over his father’s farm, or maybe just become the bookkeeper. None of it matters.”

“Why not?” Glinda realizes how stupid the question is as soon as it’s out. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

Elphaba shrugs again. “He deserved better,” she says after a while. “But, I suppose, so does everyone in here.”

“You really think that?”

“You don’t?” Elphaba’s voice is sharp as she turns to stare at her. “You really think someone deserves to be thrown in an arena to fight to the death on national _television_?”

Glinda curls in on herself, trying to become smaller. She remembers the years of tearing down her classmates so she could be on top, the way she argued with Ama Clutch after the reaping, the boy whose wrist she broke in training, how she had been so set on murdering the girl who now sits in front of her, and she thinks of one person who certainly deserves to be in these Games.

She presses her forehead to her knees and turns slightly to look at Elphaba again. She wants to apologize, but she doesn’t know how. “Why did Boq do it?” she asks instead.

It takes a moment for Elphaba to respond, but when she does, her voice is softer. “He knew he probably wouldn’t survive the first five minutes. And even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to kill anyone.”

“He stepped off the platform on purpose.”

“Yeah.” Elphaba’s voice is bitter, but there’s a certain fondness to it. “He ended it on his own terms. He let the Gamemakers, the Emerald City…the Wizard—he let them know that they don’t own him.”

A sort of thrill goes through Glinda with these words, like the excitement she felt at the reaping, only better.

“So he knew what he was doing,” she says softly.

“Oh yeah.” There it is again, that almost reluctant affection. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was planning it all along.”

Glinda remembers Boq’s face, the look of peace that crosses his features in those last seconds, and for the first time, the image isn’t unnerving. She looks up at the sky and smiles when she sees the colorful lights dancing above them. Elphaba is looking at her—she can feel her steady, attentive gaze. Glinda wonders what exactly she sees.


	11. Chapter 11

She shakes Elphaba awake early the next morning. The green girl’s eyes flash open, but Glinda holds a finger to her lips, gesturing for her to stay quiet. They hold perfectly still as they listen to the footsteps move closer.

Glinda already has both daggers in her hands, and Elphaba rolls over and grabs her own from the ground beside her. Glinda can’t think of anywhere else to look—she can’t see much outside their shelter—so she meets Elphaba’s gaze.

Whoever is nearby is moving quickly, their tread quiet but urgent. Glinda holds her breath as the sound approaches their shelter. She hears someone panting softly. Next to her, the air starts to ripple around Elphaba’s free hand. A twig snaps, a low voice curses in a language Glinda doesn’t understand, and then the steps hurry on, fading away.

The girls are quiet for a long moment. Glinda tilts her head, her eyes still locked with Elphaba’s.

“Who…?”

“Fiyero, I think,” Elphaba breathes, sitting up. Glinda raises her eyebrows, doubtful. It had sounded too scared to be Fiyero. She opens her mouth to say just that, but Elphaba suddenly jerks forward and grabs her wrist, silencing her once more.

More footsteps—many of them—are coming toward them. Glinda’s eyes widen. They don’t need to hear the voices to know who’s approaching.

“This way!” calls a voice. Glinda doesn’t recognize it, though it’s distinctly Gillikinese.

“Forget it,” says Shenshen. “We’ll never catch him like this.”

The group slows down a little. Glinda catches sight of movement just outside their shelter and resists the urge to shrink back into Elphaba.

She hears Avaric curse and kick at the leaves. “Why didn’t you hit him?” he shouts at someone. “He was right there!”

“He’s fast!” Jeron’s voice is defensive. “I could have gotten him on the second throw, but he slipped away!”

Avaric mutters something under his breath.

“What did you say?” demands Jeron. “What did you call me?”

“Oh, what does it matter?” another boy says, cutting them off. “Who cares about him? I thought we were looking for the green freak.”

Elphaba’s fingers tighten around Glinda’s wrist, nails digging into her skin.

“Yeah, but we had _him_.”

“And now we don’t.” Shenshen sounds bored. “So what? Let’s just find _someone_. We’ve been here a week and have only found a couple tributes.”

A new voice cuts in—the Vinkan girl who joined their group. “Guys, he went this way.”

“You’re sure?” Jeron asks.

“Who cares,” says Avaric. “Let’s go.”

They take off again, their noises fading in the same direction as the first tribute. Elphaba slowly lets go of Glinda’s wrist, giving her an apologetic glance. After a long silence, Glinda speaks first.

“They’re chasing Fiyero?”

“Who else would be able to outrun them?” Elphaba asks. “I’m actually kind of surprised he got caught in the first place.”

Glinda leans back against the tree trunk they’ve built the shelter around. “Oz, that was terrifying.”

“Yeah. And they’re not even after you.” Elphaba’s grin is crooked.

“How can you be smiling about this?” she asks, shaking her head.

“Smiling is better than the alternative.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“Overwhelming panic.” Elphaba grabs her pack and starts making her way outside. “Let’s get out of here, preferably in the opposite direction.”

They hurry off into the still-dark forest, not even bothering to dismantle the shelter.

 

***

 

“I think it’s my fault.”

They’re sitting on the bank of a stream, far away from the events of that morning, the sun high and bright above them. Next to her, Elphaba is picking up pine needles and bending them in half over and over again. She drops her latest one into the clear water before glancing at Glinda.

“What is?”

“They saw me first.” Glinda clears her throat. “The alliance. They were chasing me, and I led them to Fiyero and Sarima.”

“Did you mean to?”

“I knew it was going to happen.”

“But did you mean to?”

Glinda shrugs. Elphaba throws another pine needle into the stream, and they both watch it get yanked beneath the surface and dragged downstream.

“We do what we have to do to survive,” Elphaba says eventually.

“Like save other tribute’s lives?” Glinda asks, raising her eyebrows.

Elphaba shifts around. “It’s not like you killed her.”

“I didn’t help her, either.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t kill her.”

That stings. She looks up at Elphaba, who looks almost as shocked by the words as Glinda is.

“I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“I was still beat up from the rockslide. I couldn’t have taken them both.” Glinda’s voice is flat. After all, it only stings because it’s true.

“We do what we have to do to survive,” Elphaba says again. Glinda shakes her head.

“That’s not true. Boq stepped off his platform. You saved my life.”

“So?”

Glinda scoops up a handful of leaves and tosses them into the water. She scowls as they float away and rests her chin on her knees. “Did you ever care about the Games?” she asks, not meeting Elphaba’s eyes.

“No. The Games are sick.”

“Exactly,” Glinda says, nodding against her knees. “That’s the difference. I did what I had to do to survive. To win. You do what you have to do to…to…” _To not play their game, to not be a puppet, to not turn into a monster._ Glinda leaves the sentence unfinished.

“You’re not a bad person, Glinda.”

These words are even more surprising than the ones before. Glinda’s head twists to stare at Elphaba, but she’s looking down and away, her cheeks a darker green than usual.

Glinda’s eyes start to sting, and she’s suddenly aware of the Emerald City watching them. She lets out a shaky breath and shifts to kneel over the water, splashing water over her face. When she’s done, Elphaba stands and holds out a hand to help her up.

“Just remember,” says Elphaba, her voice light. “You didn’t kill me first.”

Glinda can’t help it. She smiles.

 

***

 

“Do you think he got away?”

They’ve been quiet all day, and Glinda’s voice feels weird in her throat when she tries to speak. Elphaba just shrugs, saying nothing.

“I mean, we didn’t hear any cannons, right?” she continues, wringing her hands. “So he must be okay.”

“Unless they got him and he’s just not dead yet,” Elphaba mutters. Glinda bites her lip.

“No, no, they wouldn’t do that. Avaric wouldn’t let someone get away like that.”

“You don’t think?”

“No. Either they got him or they didn’t. And we didn’t hear any cannons, so they didn’t. Right?”

Elphaba raises an eyebrow at her. Their eyes meet, but the green girl doesn’t seem to be able to offer an answer.

“Do you believe it?” Glinda asks.

“Believe what?”

“Him and Sarima. The two of them.”

Elphaba snorts. “Oh, I have no doubt that they’re engaged. If their families know each other, and they grew up together—I mean, that’s usually how these things work in the Vinkus.”

Glinda waits for her to go on—her voice makes it obvious that that’s not all she thinks—but Elphaba just stares ahead and keeps walking.

She follows her, looking up at the trees around them. She wonders how many cameras are around here, how many people are listening to their conversation. If they questioned Fiyero and Sarima’s relationship, how many sponsors would the Vinkan boy lose? Because he must have _some_ support from the Emerald City. He’s handsome, he was good in the interviews, he’s a hunter, he can outrun the alliance— _hopefully_ —and his relationship with Sarima was probably thrilling for the audience. Glinda imagines the two wandering around those first couple of days, playing up a romance for the cameras.

Or maybe they weren’t playing. Maybe it was all true. Glinda never paid _that_ much attention to them. There could have been something between them. She gazes forward, watching Elphaba move quietly through the forest ahead of her, and thinks about it. What would it be like to go into the arena with someone you love—someone you’re _in_ love with? How could you enter the Games, knowing that at least one of you isn’t going to make it out?

“Can you imagine?” she whispers.

“What?” Elphaba turns back, her forehead creasing as a shudder goes through Glinda. “Are you cold? It is getting kind of dark. Maybe we should—”

“We should find a better spot,” Glinda says, shaking her head and snapping out of her thoughts. “It’s too bare around here.”

Elphaba still looks concerned, but she nods and falls into step beside Glinda. “So…what were you saying?”

“Nothing,” Glinda says softly. “I was just wondering…what would it be like…how could anyone stand being in the arena with someone they loved?”

Silence is Elphaba’s response. She looks at Glinda, studying her, then looks ahead, then looks back down at her. She doesn’t say a word.

They stay quiet as they move into a thicker part of the forest. The valley is darkening around them, the temperature dropping, and pretty soon Glinda stops and looks around. She glances up at Elphaba, who simply nods and gets to work gathering branches for their shelter.

They don’t speak again until half an hour later, when, while lounging side by side against one of the trees, Glinda tears her remaining bread and offers half to Elphaba. Her mumbled _thank you_ is cut off by the start of the anthem, and both girls raise their eyes to the suddenly glowing sky. Glinda tenses, waiting for the picture, but nothing appears after the Emerald City’s emblem. She lets out a slow breath.

“So he did survive.”

She hears Elphaba shift next to her. “That boy you killed,” she says carefully, “He was the last one to…”

Glinda nods. “It’s been quiet.” She looks down at the bread in her hands and forces herself to tear off another mouthful. “It’s only been two days, though.”

Elphaba makes a quiet sound but doesn’t pursue it. Glinda slouches further against the tree trunk. Two days without a casualty means the Emerald City will be getting impatient, which means the Gamemakers will be getting creative, which means…

Glinda stuffs the rest of her bread back in her pack and shifts up to her hands and knees. She swears she can feel Elphaba’s eyes on her as she crawls into the shelter, and it’s only a minute or two before the green girl follows her inside. Glinda is curled up and as comfortable as she’s going to get. She holds out the blanket for Elphaba, who slides smoothly into place beside her.

“I’ll take first,” Elphaba whispers, and Glinda hums softly in response. Elphaba turns around to stare out into the woods, and Glinda takes the chance to study her. She can’t see much with the dark and the shared blanket, but her gaze lingers on the pieces that have fallen loose from Elphaba’s braid, and the soft shine of her dark hair in the spots where little patches of moonlight hit it, and the sharp, elegant angle of her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw. Glinda can’t help but stare. And when her eyes are fluttering shut and she finally tears her gaze away, she can’t help but notice that the usual foot of space between them has narrowed to just a few inches.

 

***

 

Glinda wakes up on her own, immediately restless. She shuts her eyes and tries to drift back off to sleep, but her nerves quickly get the better of her, and she reaches forward to put a hand on Elphaba’s shoulder.

“You’ve still got an hour or so,” Elphaba breathes, turning just enough to see her out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m up,” says Glinda. She shifts onto her hands and knees and crawls rather ungracefully to Elphaba’s other side.

“Smooth,” Elphaba comments. Glinda scowls and pokes her in the ribs, earning a tired chuckle. She settles down again near the outside of the shelter, laying with her elbow planted on the ground and the side of her head supported by her fist. Behind her, Elphaba’s breath slows and deepens.

It must have snowed sometime in the night. Glinda peers out at the light dusting—it’s not quite enough to completely cover the ground, but it still glows a little in the moonlight. It’s pretty, too, but she all she can think about is how hard it will be to cover their tracks in the morning.

Speaking of tracks.

Glinda scoots forward and presses her face to the wall of the shelter, peeling back a clump of pine needles to look closer. Just a few feet away a trail of prints winds through the trees. They’re fresh, not covered by the snow, but Glinda doesn’t know what made them. They look like cat tracks, only much bigger. She’s never seen anything like it. She thinks about waking up Elphaba to ask her about it, but one glance backward changes her mind.

Elphaba is already fast asleep, curled tight with the blanket pulled up to her chin. Her lips are parted into a slight pout, and her eyelids flutter gently as she dreams. Glinda’s hand twitches, reaching to brush a lock of stray hair from Elphaba’s face, but she catches herself and turns back to the front of the shelter.

They don’t start moving until after the sun rises. The thin layer of snow starts melting quickly, but they still take care not to leave too much evidence behind in the soft ground. Everything about the arena seems still, and Glinda feels that same restlessness that was there when she first woke up. Elphaba must sense something, too, because neither girl talks much as the morning passes.

“I don’t like this,” Glinda says when they stop at a stream around noon. “It’s too quiet.”

“Maybe we’re just getting further away from everyone,” says Elphaba. She holds out a handful of berries for her.

“Maybe,” Glinda says, taking the food. She’s unconvinced, and she knows Elphaba is, too. “We should keep moving.”

They do, but the mountains ahead of them are getting ever so closer, and Glinda isn’t too eager to return to the rocky, unstable terrain. She doesn’t know she has slowed down until Elphaba turns to look at her.

“You okay?”

Glinda feels her cheeks grow hot. “Y-yeah. I just…I was just thinking…” She bites her lip. She wants to tell Elphaba that they need to turn around and go back, away from here, but the thought of admitting she’s afraid—not just in front of Elphaba, but for all of Oz to see—is unbearable. “The arena,” she says finally. “It has to end somewhere around here, right? What happens if we reach the border?”

Elphaba’s eyes search her face, but eventually she turns and looks up the mountainside. “It’s just a force field,” she says. “Unless you hit it with some power, it’ll just shock you.”

Glinda raises her eyebrows. “How do you know that?”

“I read it somewhere.”

“Where?”

Elphaba shrugs. “I don’t remember. Some random book I found in the library when I was bored, probably.” She notices Glinda’s stare. “What? I read a lot.”

“Of course you do.” Glinda rolls her eyes, then remembers the tracks she saw this morning. She tells Elphaba about it, and asks, “Do you have any idea what it was?”

“A mountain lion, maybe?” The green girl has gone slightly pale. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“I just remembered.” Glinda looks around them. “I haven’t seen anything bigger than a rabbit here. Have you?”

“No,” says Elphaba. “But I bet you anything the Gamemakers have put something in here.”

“And it’s been quiet the last few days,” Glinda says slowly, “And we’re pretty far from all the other tributes.”

Elphaba visibly swallows. Her arm twitches at her side, uncertain, but then she reaches for Glinda, walking forward until they’re side by side again. “Shall we?” she asks, her voice steady.

She steers them toward where the trees are thinner. Glinda glances up at her, then down at the green hand on her shoulder. She reaches up and touches her gently. Elphaba jerks, as if just realizing where her hand is, but Glinda weaves their fingers together and doesn’t let go.

“How much danger do you think we’re in?” Glinda breathes.

“Normally I’d say not much, as long as we’re not intruding on its territory. Elphaba’s fingers jerk between hers. “But since we’re in the Games…”

Glinda gazes around. “Is there anywhere safe we can just camp out?”

“I doubt it. Our best bet is to be out in the open, where we can see it.”

She should probably let go of Elphaba’s hand, but she can’t bring herself to release the steadying grip. “So…there’s nothing to do but keep walking.”

Elphaba doesn’t respond, but her fingers tighten around Glinda’s. They do keep walking—for a long time, actually—and nothing happens. The temperature starts to drop as the sun sinks lower in the sky. Glinda is vaguely aware that they’re moving somewhat north, toward the center of the arena, toward the Cornucopia. It’s not the best plan of action, but she decides to worry about it later, when her senses aren’t straining to hear something, _anything_ , that will indicate the predator that may or may not be stalking them.

She hears Elphaba’s breath catch, but the green girl keeps walking determinedly. Her hand squeezes Glinda’s so tight it starts to shake.

“Did you see…?”

“No,” Elphaba breathes. “But I feel like…”

“We’re being watched.”

“Yeah. Keep walking.”

Glinda does, but she brings her free hand up to rest on the set of daggers tucked into her belt. Next to her, Elphaba tenses. Glinda sees something out of the corner of her eye and pulls out one of the blades. Elphaba jerks forward, pulling Glinda with her.

Not far enough. Something catches her backpack, tearing her hand from Elphaba and knocking her over. She lands on soft, wet ground and her eyes screw shut. She feels heat and weight, hears a low growl, and pulls out her dagger. Her eyes are still shut and she can’t seem to open them, so she thrusts blindly, slicing through the strap at her shoulder.

Hands are grabbing her, pulling her to her feet as soon as she’s free from the pack. Glinda finally opens her eyes as Elphaba drags her back. The mountain lion is crouched low over her bag, facing them. Glinda can see muscles rippling and tensing beneath its fur. Next to her, Elphaba is trembling, the air starting to hum around them. Glinda pulls out her second dagger.

The cat jumps forward, and both girls push away from each other, leaping to either side. It hits a thin sapling behind them, its weight snapping the tree clean in half. The sound echoes sharply through the valley, but before Glinda can worry about it the cat is turning around to face Elphaba.

She thinks she screams as it leaps, but Elphaba thrusts out her hands, a wild blast of energy throwing the creature back. It lands in a heap, near Glinda, immediately rising to its feet again. She shifts her daggers in her hands and runs forward, driving them both into the mountain lion’s neck with a yell.

The cat jerks and hisses beneath her, but then falls still. Glinda pulls out her blades and climbs shakily to her feet just as they hear shouting. It’s too loud to be just an echo. Both girls whirl toward the sound and find themselves facing a clearing just through the trees. In the middle, a large, metal horn glints in the sunlight.

“The Cornucopia.” Elphaba’s voice shakes.

Glinda mumbles a curse and shoves one dagger into her belt. She grabs Elphaba’s wrist and drags her into a sprint just as more shouts go up behind them.

“Was that—?”

“It’s the green freak!”

“Glinda?!” If not for her terror, the incredulity in Jeron’s voice would be funny.

“Don’t let them go!” Avaric yells. Glinda lets go of Elphaba so they can move faster, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Within seconds small knives are whirling past them, too close for comfort.

 _We can’t outrun them_ , Glinda thinks. _Not forever_. Her breath tears in and out of her throat as she starts to panic.

“We need to lose them,” Elphaba hisses. Glinda looks up at her. “We can—”

She cuts off and skids to a halt. While Glinda has been looking over her shoulder and up at Elphaba, they’ve run almost straight into a cliff face. It’s only a foot or so taller than Elphaba and not very wide at all, but as Glinda grabs Elphaba’s hand again and starts tugging them to the side, it doesn’t matter. The alliance has already panned out around them, cutting off their escape.

The girls back up until their shoulders are nearly touching. Glinda’s eyes focus on Jeron, who stands closest to her, but he just grins and spins a blade in his hand. Her face burns. _They’re already gloating_ , she thinks.

The hair on her arms stands on end, and she glances to the side to see Elphaba shaking. The air ripples and hums even more than before, and her fists have started to glow. Madame Morrible’s voice rings in her ears.

 _The energy surrounding her may have seemed intimidating, but it was simply her emotions manifesting themselves in a way she could not control,_ the mentor had said. _She’ll destroy herself._

Glinda can handle herself, but not against six of them. Not when she also needs to protect Elphaba. Not when her eyes keep flickering over to the glowing light that is growing brighter around the green girl’s fists.

For a moment they just stand there, two against six, staring each other down. Most of the alliance is grinning, and she thinks she sees Avaric’s lips move, but she doesn’t stay still to hear him. Glinda lunges for Jeron, tackling him at the knees and forcing him down.

The chaos is instant. Everyone starts yelling as she and Jeron hit the ground. She sees Shenshen and the other Gillikin girl running toward her, but her focus is on Jeron. She grabs his wrist and shoves his hand into the ground, knocking the knife from his grip. She grabs it and twists around, throwing it at Shenshen. It’s not a good enough throw to hit her, but it flies close enough to force her to jump out of the way.

Jeron takes advantage of her distraction and rams his knee into her gut. He shoves her away and starts grasping at his waist for another knife. She hears Elphaba yell from somewhere behind her and forces herself to roll to her knees. Jeron leaps toward her just as she brings her dagger up.

He grunts and jerks, the knife in his hand falling harmlessly against her shoulder. Glinda shoves him away as the cannon sounds and scrambles back. Her head feels weightless, her mind spinning, and the only coherent thought she has is to wonder if Ama Clutch is watching.

_Focus._

Glinda blinks hard to clear her vision. She has a split second to look around before anyone else reaches her. Elphaba is a few feet away, fighting an unarmed Gillikin boy. Shenshen is still climbing back to her feet, and the other Gillikin girl is staring at Glinda, her eyes narrowed into a glare.

But it’s Avaric who captures her attention. He stands between her and Elphaba, his sword still in his belt, looking back and forth as if deciding where to go.

The Gillikin girl and Shenshen reach her then, and Glinda is forced to turn away from Avaric. The Gillikin girl lunges at her, but Glinda ducks and slams an elbow into her ribs. The girl bends over, wheezing, and Glinda shoves her to the ground. She hears Shenshen yell and spins around just in time to block the ax swinging down at her. Shenshen pulls back, teeth bared, and tries again, but this time Glinda pulls out her second dagger and forces her into a defensive stance.

She manages to keep Shenshen back, but her gaze keeps darting toward Elphaba. The green girl is still standing, thank Oz, and she’s fending off the Gillikin boy and the Vinkan girl with a few shaky yet powerful blasts of magic. Glinda feels her strength surge—they just might make it out of this alive—and she kicks out, hooking her leg around Shenshen’s knees and shoving her down.

Shenshen’s ax falls from her hand and clatters across the ground. Glinda raises one of her daggers, about to stab down, but something stops her. Her pulse beats in her ears, Boq’s face swims before her vision, and she swears she hears Ama Clutch’s voice, calling her name, whispering a gentle good night. She lets out a ragged breath and, slowly, lowers the blade.

Rough arms grab her, throwing her back against the cliff face. One blade falls from her grip as she slumps against the rock, blinking away spots. She looks up to see Avaric looming in front of her. She tries to raise her dagger but he catches her wrist mid-swing and yanks the blade from her hand, throwing it to the side.

Panic grips her and she kicks out, but he grabs her face and slams her head back into the rock. She does her best to twist away, even as her vision blurs and her legs wobble beneath her, but Avaric is bigger and stronger, and she’s unarmed. Glinda sees the glint of a sword being raised in front of her, and she wonders if her face will look as peaceful as Boq’s did.

“ _No!_ ”

Of all the horrible sounds of the arena, Elphaba’s scream is by far the worst. A blast of pure energy hits them, and she feels Avaric being torn away from her. She thinks a cannon goes off, but everything sounds like thunder in her ears. She hears shouting and sees, blurrily, the rest of the alliance running away.

Glinda tries to turn to find Elphaba, but movement is unbearable. She realizes that she’s collapsed on the ground. Her ears are still ringing, although she can hear Morrible’s smug voice: _she’ll destroy herself._

Glinda blinks furiously, trying to clear her vision, to find Elphaba, but everything has gone dark. The arena falls silent, and she feels her mind start to drift away.

Suddenly there’s a new sensation, quite different from anything she’s felt here in the Games. Warm arms wrap around her, lifting her, cradling her, and it’s so gentle that Glinda is sure she’s already dead.


	12. Chapter 12

Glinda wakes up in the dark. The ground beneath her is cold and hard, and no matter how hard she blinks, she can’t see a thing. She sits upright, fumbling blindly around herself.

Her fingers brush something smooth beside her— _Elphaba_ , she thinks—and her heartbeat slows down again. She blinks a few more times and looks around. She _can_ see, now that her eyes are beginning to adjust. It’s just dark outside, and she’s tucked deep inside a secluded cave.

Glinda’s head spins, but she forces herself to breathe deeply. She looks over at the green girl, but Elphaba’s eyes are closed.

“Elphaba,” Glinda whispers, reaching over to grab her shoulder. Elphaba gives no response. Glinda shakes her. “ _Elphie._ ”

Her eyelids flutter, but remain shut. Glinda slides her hand up and presses two fingers to her neck. It takes her a moment, but eventually she feels a pulse, faint but even.

Elphaba must have carried her here. After fighting off the alliance and releasing a blast of magic so intense it very well could have killed her, she carried Glinda to this little hidden cave. And then probably passed out.

Glinda feels her eyes sting. This cave is just big enough for there to be cameras, but she can’t bring herself to care. She puts her hand over Elphaba’s and squeezes her eyes shut, letting a tear escape down her cheek.

“You really need to stop saving my life,” she breathes, brushing Elphaba’s hair back with her free hand. Elphaba sighs in response, her face relaxing. Glinda gently lifts her palm away and sits back against the cave wall, looking curiously around them.

Elphaba is lying between her and the cave’s entrance, curled up so tight that it’s uncomfortable even to look at. Behind her, the ground slopes steeply up, and Glinda can just make out the dark outline of branches covering the mouth of the cave. It’s nighttime, but she doesn’t have any idea how late it is. She wonders if the sky is clear enough to see the lights, but she has no desire whatsoever to leave Elphaba’s side.

She hears another quiet sigh and looks down. Elphaba is blinking awake. She tenses and inhales sharply, but Glinda places a hand on her arm.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. Elphaba nods, still blinking. She sits up, wincing a little. “You should—”

“I’m fine,” Elphaba says. “Are you…?”

“I’m good.”

“Your head?”

As if on cue, the back of her skull throbs. Glinda flinches, and Elphaba’s hand immediately reaches for her. Her fingers brush lightly across her scalp.

“There’s definitely a bump there.” Elphaba’s eyes crinkle with worry. The edges of her lips turn down.

“It’s fine,” Glinda says quickly. “Just a little tender. I’ll be fine.”

Elphaba looks like she wants to argue, but she lets it go. What can they do, anyway? Glinda slumps further against the wall, suddenly tired again.

“How long have you been awake?” Elphaba asks.

“Just a few minutes.” Glinda looks outside again. “I wish we knew what time it was.”

“The sun was just starting to set when I…” Her voice trails off.

Glinda studies her for a moment. “So…what happened, exactly?”

Elphaba presses her lips together, focusing on the opposite wall. “He was going to kill you.”

“I know,” she breathes. She shivers, and Elphaba scoots just a tiny bit closer.

“I…I saw him, about to…and…” Elphaba takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. I just…lost control. All I know is that he was going to kill you, and I couldn’t…”

Glinda puts her hand over Elphaba’s and squeezes.

“What happened after?” she asks.

“They ran off. Well, most of them…” Her eyes turn almost black. “The Vinkan girl…she was closest to me when…when I…”

They stay quiet for a long moment, listening to Elphaba’s shaky breathing. Glinda remembers the way her blade felt as it went through Jeron, how he jerked above her before falling still.

She shifts, scooting off the wall to lie down again. The soft rustle of her clothes seems to calm Elphaba, who lets the blonde guide her down beside her.

“You carried me here?” she asks quietly. Elphaba looks down at their hands, still clasped together.

“Yeah.”

Glinda inches closer, nearly pressing herself into Elphaba’s side. Her hand lets go of Elphaba’s and instead settles on her stomach, gripping the material of her jacket.

“Thank you,” Glinda whispers. Elphaba covers her hand with her own and rubs her thumb once across her knuckles.

“I don’t think anyone will find us here,” she says. “The only reason I found it was because I nearly fell in it.”

Glinda smiles and rests her head on her free arm, gazing up at the green girl. “Then we should sleep.”

“We should sleep.” Elphaba’s eyes are already fluttering shut, but Glinda speaks anyway.

“Elphie?”

“Yeah?”

She loses her nerve. Elphaba holds her gaze for a long moment, and Glinda wonders if she even has to ask. If she even should.

After a while Elphaba turns onto her back, and a while after that, she starts breathing deeply. Glinda’s fingers tighten in her jacket.

“Do you still not trust me?” she asks softly. She doesn’t expect a response, but Elphaba’s hand grips hers gently, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

 

***

 

It’s still dark when Glinda wakes up again. Elphaba’s thumb is rubbing absentminded circles across the back of her hand, and from the way her skin tingles, she’s been doing it for a while.

“Are you awake?” she whispers. Elphaba nods. Glinda sits up, pulling her hand away to stretch. Elphaba follows suit, and it’s only a moment or two before their fingers are intertwined again. It feels too natural to question, so Glinda doesn’t.

The temperature has dropped since they woke up the last time. Glinda’s hand twitches, automatically reaching for her bag before she remembers she lost it when the mountain lion attacked.

“Dammit,” she mutters, bringing her knees to her chest.

“What is it?”

“My bag. All of my supplies. It’s gone.” She buries her face in her hands. “And I lost my daggers when Avaric…oh, Oz.”

Elphaba frowns, but she reaches for something beside her and holds it out. “Here,” she says, offering Glinda the dagger. “I still have it from when…”

From when she first stole it from Glinda, the first time they met. “But you—”

Elphaba scoffs. “Please. You’re unarmed, and I’m terrible with a blade. Take it. We’ll both feel safer.”

She smiles slowly. “Miss Elphaba, you _do_ trust me.”

Elphaba just shrugs and hands her the blade.

“I still have food, too,” she says. “It’s not much, but I’m sure we can manage.”

“I guess.” Glinda shivers. “I miss the blanket, though.”

Elphaba shifts closer. She’s gloriously warm, and Glinda can’t help but lean into her. The two fall still and silent, comfortable enough that, for a moment, the rest of the arena seems to fade away.

Glinda closes her eyes, losing herself in her thoughts. She supposes she should be freaked out, since a week ago she wanted nothing more than to kill Elphaba. Or maybe she should be despairing, because despite the peace of their little cave, they’re still in the Games, and all too soon at least one of them is going to be dead.

But though all of this occurs to her, sitting next to Elphaba doesn’t feel anything but… _right_. There’s something about them that just seems to fit.

It does seem strange, though, how far they’ve come. Ever since the beginning, from even before the reaping, Glinda was set on winning. She would be the last one standing, no matter what it took. Now, amazingly, winning is the last thing on her mind. There’s still a need for survival, but it’s overshadowed by something much more pressing.

She looks sideways at Elphaba.

Her memories of the green girl in training seem vague, as if they’re from years ago instead of just days. Still, she remembers, and she realizes suddenly that she isn’t the only one who has changed.

“Hey, Elphie?”

“Mm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Elphaba shifts around next to her but doesn’t say anything. Glinda thinks for a moment, trying to come up with the right words.

“You’ve…never wanted to be here.” Elphaba raises an eyebrow, but Glinda hurries before she can interrupt. “No, let me continue. I mean…from the start, you resisted this whole thing. You were indifferent at best, but usually angry or even defiant. But you also…I mean, you were confident, too. Morrible—my mentor—she warned me not to underestimate you. You…”

Elphaba watches her, waiting for more. After a moment or two, she gently nudges Glinda’s shoulder. “None of that was a question.”

“I know, I know. Sorry. I just…” Glinda takes a deep breath. “You could have done it, you know. You could have won—I mean, you still could, I guess.”

Elphaba snorts. “Somehow I doubt either of us are Emerald City favorites right now, what with me being the green freak from a troublesome family, and you being the ruthless killer turned soft just to befriend me.”

“Yeah.” She untangles their fingers, then clasps them together again. “But…you could have been. And you didn’t. Why?”

“Why what, exactly?”

“Why did you act like that in the Emerald City?” Glinda asks. “You didn’t try. You didn’t even seem to care.”

“What was the point?” Elphaba says, shrugging. “I wasn’t going to win, so why bother?”

“You shouldn’t have counted yourself out like that. The Emerald City would have loved you if you played it right. And your magic gives you an edge.”

Elphaba shakes her head. “I don’t care. Like you said, I didn’t want to be there. I hate the Wizard, and I hate everyone who goes along with what he does.”

“But…you could have won. You could have gone home.”

“At what cost? I never wanted to hurt anyone. Even if I won—even if I win now—how much of myself would be left behind, with all the people I killed?” Her words echo Ama Clutch’s, and Glinda shivers. Elphaba lets out a quiet sigh and—somewhat awkwardly—wraps an arm around her, pulling her closer.

“So…what changed?” Glinda asks eventually.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re trying now. The way you fought yesterday—first with the mountain lion, then with the alliance—you’re trying to survive. What changed?”

Dark eyes flash up to meet her own, and Glinda knows the answer even before she hears it. Elphaba squeezes her hand almost painfully tight and takes a shaky breath.

“I found something to fight for.”

Glinda feels as though her entire body is flushed. She shifts, leaning up to press her lips to Elphaba’s cheek, and notices that she’s not the only one blushing. She lingers for a moment, both needing more and terrified of what is already there, but eventually she settles back against the wall.

“I’m still tired,” she whispers, after the silence and the tension have made it hard to breathe.

“It’s still late.” Elphaba’s hand is shaking in hers.

“Are you tired?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them lay down again, but Glinda leans against Elphaba’s shoulder, and after a moment she feels the soft weight of Elphaba’s head resting on top of hers. Glinda’s eyes flutter shut. She can feel Elphaba breathing, her shoulder rising and falling steadily, soothingly, beneath her head. This time it’s Elphaba who speaks, just before Glinda drifts off.

“What are we doing?” she breathes.

Glinda just squeezes her hand, letting the question fade back into the night.

 

***

 

When she wakes the next time, she doesn’t open her eyes. She’s laying down again, but her head is resting on something much softer and warmer than the floor of the cave. Timid fingers run through her hair, and that’s when she realizes her head is in Elphaba’s lap.

Her eyes open.

The cave is brighter than before, the moonlight shining in on them. Glinda sits up slowly, and Elphaba’s hand falls from her hair to her back and then, as Glinda meets her gaze with something close to daring, her waist.

The air seems charged. Maybe it’s the moonlight, glowing clear and silver. Maybe it’s the intimate position they were just in. Maybe it’s the way Elphaba manages to look simultaneously stoic and vulnerable. Or maybe it’s just Glinda herself, who always knows what she wants, but for the first in her life wants something worthwhile.

Whatever it is, she makes her choice, and with a boldness she’s not entirely sure she possesses, Glinda slides wordlessly onto Elphaba’s lap.

Elphaba tenses, her eyes frantically searching Glinda’s. Her hands drop to her sides, but Glinda gently grabs her shoulders.

“It’s okay.” She isn’t quite sure where her courage is coming from. Maybe it’s the peacefulness of sleep lingering at the edges of her mind, making her feel invincible. Maybe it’s the thought of the Games, urging her on, telling her that if she doesn’t act now, she’ll never get the chance.

She reaches up to cradle the back of Elphaba’s neck. Her fingers massage gently, and some of the tension dissipates. Elphaba sets her hands, ever so lightly, on her hips. Glinda leans closer.

“It’s okay,” she says again, but Elphaba shakes her head, looking down.

“They can see us.”

Glinda’s eyes flicker around the cave. “Probably.”

“The others…” Elphaba’s breath shudders in and out. “They could—”

“No,” Glinda breathes. “You said it yourself. No one will find us here.”

Elphaba looks up at her, and for a moment Glinda swears she’s close to tears. “What are we doing?” she asks, even more desperate than before. “There’s no point. You _know_ how this is going to end, why—”

“Shh. I know, okay? I know. But this…” Glinda blinks hard for a moment, then reaches up and cups Elphaba’s cheek in one hand, the other tangling in her hair. The green girl trembles beneath her. “If this is all we have…”

Elphaba’s eyes flutter shut. Her teeth clench, her jaw jumping beneath Glinda’s palm. The blonde tilts her head back and leans in until their lips brush. Elphaba jerks away and sucks in a breath.

“It’s not much,” she whispers, eyes still closed. “It’s hardly anything.”

Glinda rests her forehead against Elphaba’s. They fall still, breathing in each other’s air. “It’s not much,” she agrees. Her lips touch Elphaba’s again, lightly, and this time she doesn’t pull back. “But it’s ours.”


	13. Chapter 13

This time, Glinda wakes up slowly. Pale, rosy light fills the cave, and she and Elphaba are lying across the ground, intertwined. Her arms are wrapped around Elphaba’s skinny waist, her face tucked into the crook of her shoulder. Still half asleep, Glinda squeezes Elphaba tighter, and that’s when it hits her.

She can’t help it; she starts giggling. Elphaba shifts next to her, pressing smiling lips to her forehead.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, running a hand through Glinda’s hair. The blonde shakes her head.

“Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“About?”

Glinda wraps her fingers in Elphaba’s jacket, then smoothes the material out again. “For my interview, my stylist gave me these shoes. They were beautiful—made of solid emerald. I remember thinking that I would never in my life hold anything as precious as those shoes.” She turns her head back into Elphaba, smiling into her neck, and holds her closer. “I was wrong.”

Elphaba’s fingers run through her hair again and Glinda closes her eyes, relishing the sensation. She feels rather than sees the dark green blush that warms Elphaba’s neck, and she wants nothing more than to stay in that moment forever.

They do stay like that for a while, tangled and holding on to each other, but after a few moments Elphaba shifts. She only pulls back a little, but it’s enough for reality to settle in between them.

Glinda’s heart sinks. She knows what Elphaba is going to say before the green girl even opens her mouth.

“We can’t do this.”

Glinda reaches up to tuck a lock of dark hair back. Elphaba’s eyes flutter shut, but she sighs.

“Glinda. We can’t.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” Their eyes meet. “Yes, Elphie, I do. I get it. This is stupid. This is pointless. This is going to get us both killed, and even if one of us survives we won’t come out as the same person. But none of that changes the fact that, even if you made me leave right now, I would still follow you and do my best to stop anyone who comes after you. None of that changes the fact that everything I ever thought I knew changed when I met you.”

Elphaba bites her lip and looks down. “This can only end badly.”

“Elphaba, we’re in the Hunger Games. It can’t really get much worse.”

There’s a long moment of silence, broken only by Elphaba’s sigh. Glinda sits up, kneeling so that she’s perpendicular to her, and grips Elphaba’s hand in both of hers.

“Maybe it’s stupid,” she whispers. “Maybe it’s the worst decision ever made in the Games. But if time is against us, what else can we do but make the most of it?”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you trust me?” she asks suddenly. The green girl looks away and mumbles something. “Elphie?”

Elphaba jerks her hand away, sitting up, and in an instant she’s cupping Glinda’s face and kissing her, hard.

Glinda lets out a whimper and her entire body flushes, but she wraps her arms around Elphaba’s waist. Elphaba breaks the kiss but leans closer, pressing their bodies together even more. She tucks her face into the crook of Glinda’s neck, inhaling deeply.

“I trust you,” she breathes, her voice catching. Glinda feels the tears against her neck. “I trust you.”

 

***

 

They hear the cannon a few hours later, just after they’ve dished out a handful of berries and a chunk of stale bread.

“This should get us through the rest of the day,” Elphaba says, peering into her little pack. “But we’ll have to focus on finding food tomorrow.”

Glinda’s response is cut off by the thundering sound. She and Elphaba look at each other and move soundlessly toward the back wall of the cave.

“It sounded far off,” Glinda breathes after a moment or two.

“They won’t find us in here,” Elphaba agrees. Still, they stay pressed against the rock, as far away from the outside world as possible.

That’s how the day goes—quiet, curled together in their cave, ignoring the rest of the arena while they can. They take turns resting against each other, tangling fingers or playing with hair.

Elphaba dozes off sometime after lunch. Her head, which has been resting on Glinda’s shoulder for the last half hour, starts slipping down her arm. Once in a while she’ll jerk awake and sit up, only to nod off again. After the third time, Glinda, biting back a giggle, wraps an arm around Elphaba’s shoulders and guides her down to rest on her lap.

She amuses herself for a while with Elphaba’s hair. Even after a week and a half in the arena, it’s still somehow silky to the touch. Glinda thinks of how beautiful it must be freshly washed and taken care of, and she wonders, briefly, if it will ever be that way again.

When she’s been asleep for a while, Glinda carefully extracts herself from Elphaba and stands, ignoring the dull throb at the back of her skull. She’s starting to get thirsty, but her water bottle was lost with the rest of her supplies. There might be a stream nearby, but that would mean leaving the cave.

Glinda stretches for a moment and looks back at Elphaba, still asleep. If she hears water outside, she’ll go look. If not, she’ll come right back in. Either way, she won’t be gone for more than a couple minutes. It’s worth finding out, isn’t it?

She climbs up the steep slope of the cave’s entrance, blinking furiously as the light grows brighter. She kneels behind the bushes that cover the mouth of the cave and peers out.

The arena is quiet enough, and there are no signs of any other tributes ever being nearby. There’s the low, consistent murmur of running water, but it’s distant, probably too far to walk within a couple of minutes. Glinda hesitates, glancing over her shoulder into the cave. Elphaba is safe here—she probably won’t even wake up—but is venturing out worth it? She swallows, noticing that her throat feels thicker than before, and rubs at the back of her head. The knot at the base of her skull is tender to the touch, and she can feel flaky, dried blood around it. She looks longingly toward the sound of the water.

It’s only a matter of time before another tribute or the Gamemakers catches up with them, though, and Glinda isn’t all that eager to push their luck. Besides, the thought of Elphaba curled up, asleep and alone in the cave is enough to make her turn right around and go back inside.

As it turns out, Elphaba isn’t curled up _or_ asleep. Instead, she’s scrambling to her feet, looking frantically about the cave. Glinda hears her rapid breathing, feels the slight charge in the air, and hurries to her side.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” she whispers, kneeling beside Elphaba and stroking her hair back.

“Where _were_ you?” Elphaba demands. She grips Glinda’s arm and pulls her closer.

“Nowhere,” she says. “I wanted to know if there was water nearby so I went to the entrance to look around. I never left the cave, I promise.”

Elphaba’s eyes search her face, but she calms down. The air stops humming and her hold on Glinda loosens.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “I just…thought I heard…” Glinda takes her hand and she shakes her head. “It was a dream.”

“It’s okay,” says Glinda, pressing her lips to her cheek. “We’re okay here.”

“We’re not.” But Elphaba closes her eyes and leans in to the touch.

Glinda shifts to sit more comfortably against Elphaba. It’s so calm and so quiet that, after a while, Glinda feels herself starting to fall asleep. Her eyes flutter shut and she lets out a sigh. Elphaba’s hand finds hers and intertwines their fingers, and Glinda smiles into her neck.

“So…water?” asks Elphaba.

“Mm. It sounded like it was a few minutes away.”

“We should check it out. I’m thirsty, and I think moving around will do us good.”

Glinda snuggles her face further into the crook of Elphaba’s neck, her eyes still closed. “Do we have to?”

“You think there’s someone out there?”

“No, but I’m sleepy.”

She feels Elphaba’s chuckle more than she hears it. Glinda pushes herself upright and scowls at her. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Come on,” says Elphaba, climbing to her feet and pulling Glinda up with her. Her face is serious, but there’s still laughter in her eyes—not that Glinda really minds, of course.

They climb carefully out of their cave and head toward the sound of running water. Elphaba was right. It feels good to stretch their muscles, even if they keep looking anxiously over their shoulders for signs of other tributes. The knot at the back of Glinda’s head throbs with every step, and Elphaba’s feet drag more than usual, but the fresh, cool air is rejuvenating. Even better, they make it to the stream without any sign of danger.

Now that she’s in the light, Glinda can see the crimson stains on her hands from killing the mountain lion. And Jeron. She hesitates at the water’s edge, studying the creases of her fingers and trying to remember how to breathe.

Green hands wrap around hers. Glinda meets Elphaba’s eyes as she tugs her hands down into the water, gently scrubbing at the stains. Neither girl says a word.

Afterward Glinda gulps down several handfuls of water, then splashes some over her face and neck. She doesn’t want to think about how gross she looks, but as she washes the dried blood from the back of her head she can’t help it. She leans over the water, trying to catch a glimpse of her reflection, but the surface is too choppy to show her a clear image.

The walk back to the cave is almost as uneventful as the walk out. The only difference is, about halfway back, Glinda reaches down and finds Elphaba’s hand. And as they walk together through the trees, the birds even dare to sing.

 

***

 

It’s Glinda’s turn to nap as the afternoon rolls on. She slumps against the wall, resting her head on Elphaba’s shoulder, and lets her eyes shut. The next thing she remembers is sitting halfway on Elphaba’s lap. She sighs and leans further into Elphaba’s chest, drifting off again as arms tighten around her.

Glinda wakes again to the sound of humming in her ear. She considers opening her eyes, but then thinks better of it. Elphaba’s hum turns into singing, and though it’s under her breath and Glinda only catches a few words, she feels it. The melody doesn’t fill the air, but it fills Glinda, bringing a sense of calm, relief, maybe even hope. Elphaba’s voice holds possibility. It conjures up a world outside the Games, somewhere Glinda can almost see, even with her eyes closed and her face pressed into Elphaba’s jacket. Her chest tightens with emotion, her eyes sting, and she inhales Elphaba’s smell and lets blissful sleep take her again.

When she finally wakes up again, she can only think of how safe she feels in Elphaba’s arms. She opens her eyes but doesn’t move. Instead, she gazes out of the cave at the sky. The very air has turned gold, glowing in the late afternoon sunlight. She can picture the sun hanging low over the mountains, and she imagines what this valley could look like without the Games. What did it look like before, without all the traps and the tributes and the bloodshed? What will it look like after?

“Are you awake?” Elphaba asks softly. Glinda nods. She starts to move off her lap, but Elphaba stops her, pulling her to sit between her legs. Smiling, Glinda leans back into her chest, and after shifting for a second, Elphaba leans forward and rests her chin on Glinda’s shoulder.

Glinda sighs contentedly. She thinks that it might just be the most peaceful day of her life—a snapshot in the chaos of the Games, where she and Elphaba can just hold each other and rest and not worry about what’s coming.

They divide the last of Elphaba’s food and watch the golden light outside the cave begin to dim. Glinda looks at the sky, dreading the moment it turns dark.

“We should watch the anthem,” she says quietly. “Find out who that cannon was for.”

“Yeah.”

Glinda tries not to care, but she really hopes Fiyero’s picture doesn’t appear in the sky. For a moment she wishes for it to be Avaric, but then she remembers what Elphaba said a couple days ago, about no one deserving to be in here. She remembers that Avaric’s family is legendary in the Games, and that he’s been preparing for this even more than she has. And unlike Glinda, Avaric probably never had a choice. From the day he was born, he was a tribute. Another piece in the Hunger Games.

It is in that moment, with pity and regret and shame swirling through her, that Glinda truly understands.

“I hate the Wizard.”

Elphaba grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers. Together, they move to the mouth of the cave, where they can stare up at the darkening sky.

Glinda tightens her grip on Elphaba’s hand as the anthem plays. The picture appears above them, and it’s neither Fiyero nor Avaric. Instead it’s the last Quadling boy. She sighs as the anthem fades and the photo vanishes.

 _Eight left_ , thinks Glinda, but she doesn’t say it out loud. She doesn’t have to. Next to her, Elphaba is quiet and tense, undoubtedly thinking the same exact thing.

They crawl back inside and settle down for the night without saying much. Glinda takes first watch and sits peacefully beside Elphaba, listening to the green girl’s steady breathing.

It’s not until a couple hours later that she remembers the lights. She didn’t care last night, but now she’s filled with a sudden, intense desire to watch the colors dance through the sky. After a quick glance at Elphaba, she crawls forward and up to the mouth of the cave, settling down just behind the cover of branches.

The entire valley is illuminated, bathed in the brilliant shades of green and purple that float idly above. Glinda stares up at the stars and colors, captivated, and can’t help but feel small.

She’s vaguely aware of movement in the cave behind her, and then there’s a warm body leaning against her side. “Amazing, isn’t it?” Elphaba says softly.

“Do you know how it happens?”

Elphaba shakes her head. “There’s probably some sort of explanation, but to be honest I don’t really want to know.”

“No?”

“No. Maybe if it was something I could take the time to study, I’d be curious. But given the circumstances…well, I just think it’s nice to have something beautiful to wonder at.”

Glinda looks over at her. Elphaba’s skin is entrancing in the colored light. _Something beautiful to wonder at,_ she thinks.

“It is nice,” she whispers. Elphaba notices her gaze and raises an eyebrow. Glinda flushes and looks back up.

A few minutes of quiet pass. Elphaba sighs softly, contentedly, then asks, “What are you thinking about?”

It takes Glinda a moment to answer. “The Games,” she says quietly. “How they were supposed to be the best thing that ever happened to me. In a way, I guess, they still are.”

Elphaba stares at her, but Glinda keeps her gaze up as she continues. “I know, it sounds crazy. But say I hadn’t volunteered. I would end up living the rest of my life in Frottica, never knowing, never understanding, never…” She sighs, unsure how to say what she wants. “I came here wanting glory and fame and whatever else the Emerald City would throw at me. But instead something better happened to me.” Glinda meets Elphaba’s eyes and sees the entire sky reflected in them. “ _You_ happened to me.”

She doesn’t know who moves first. She doesn’t know anything but Elphaba’s lips against hers, Elphaba’s arms wrapping around her, pulling her closer. There’s more that Glinda wants to say—three specific little words—but they’re too terrifying to even try to get out. What do they mean, anyway? They don’t have the time, the security, for words like that. They don’t have anything but this moment. So it’s this moment that Glinda focuses on.

Later, when they’ve moved back inside and the torrent of emotion that followed Glinda’s confession has subsided, Elphaba holds her close and stares out at the little sliver of illuminated sky.

“You could have won,” Elphaba says softly. “If you never met me.”

“Yeah.” Glinda closes her eyes. “But what would I be winning, really?”


	14. Chapter 14

By the time the next morning comes, both girls are anxious to leave the cave. Glinda’s head still hurts, but at this point it’s probably more due to exhaustion than the actual injury. Elphaba wakes up energized, fully recovered, it seems, from the drain of her magic, and it’s clear she’s eager to get moving.

They don’t have anything to pack up, so Glinda sticks the last dagger in her belt and Elphaba braids her hair back, and then they’re climbing out into the daylight.

“So what now?” Elphaba asks. Glinda stretches high, enjoying the strain of her cramped muscles. She settles down again with a sigh.

“Supplies,” she says, touching the blade at her hip. “All we have is a dagger and your empty pack.”

Elphaba nods. “We can stop by that stream again, and we’ll pick berries and roots and stuff to fill up my pack again.”

“It’s not enough,” says Glinda, though she starts off toward the sound of running water. “We need some actual gear.”

“I managed just fine without anything else before. We can do it now.”

“And what if it gets colder?” Glinda asks.

“We’ll find a cave, or dig into the ground, or cover ourselves with leaves. They’re not going to freeze us to death—it’d be too boring for them.”

“What if we can’t find a safe source of water?”

Elphaba rolls her eyes. “There are streams and rivers all over this valley.”

“It’s getting close to the end. The Gamemakers might cut them off somehow.” Elphaba looks like she’s going to protest again, so Glinda continues hurriedly. “And what if we’re cornered again? You have nothing to defend yourself with.”

“I have magic,” Elphaba says, a little defensively.

“No offense,” says Glinda, “But you passed out last time you resorted to that.”

“Only because I panicked.”

“Elphaba.”

“Okay, so, what? Should I carve a spear out of a tree branch?”

“Be serious, Elphie.”

The green girl rubs her forehead and sighs. “Well, where do _you_ plan on getting supplies?”

“The Cornucopia?”

Elphaba snorts. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“There are only four Careers left. We might be able to—”

“I am not going anywhere near the Cornucopia, and neither are you,” Elphaba snaps. She closes her eyes and softens her expression. “Seriously, Glinda, a day ago they almost killed us. Can we just…come up with something that is less of a death wish?”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right.” They’ve reached the stream by now. Glinda crouches by the water, sitting on her heels, and dips her fingers in, letting the stream swirl gently around her skin. “What about the cliff face, where they cornered us? I dropped my daggers there, and…and Jeron and that other girl…surely they had something on them.”

Elphaba splashes water over her face. “The hovercrafts would have picked them up by now. There’s probably nothing left.”

“Oh yeah.” She’s a little relieved, actually. Glinda drinks a few handfuls of water before splashing some over her face and hair. She thinks about Jeron lying motionless on the ground as the Emerald City’s hovercraft picks him up. She wonders where he is now—is he still in the city, or is his body being transported back to Pertha Hills as they speak?

She shakes her head. “There has to be something.”

Elphaba touches her shoulder. “We can manage without. You know we can.”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Glinda turns to face her, but Elphaba’s gaze darts away. The blonde looks down and starts wringing her fingers together. How long? It must seem like such a stupid question, and yet, Glinda is desperate for anything that can extend their time.

Elphaba takes her hands, stilling them. “Okay. So, supplies. Maybe…maybe up where that mountain lion attacked us? The Gamemakers wouldn’t have messed with its body, so maybe your bag is still there. There won’t be any weapons, but at least we’ll have something.”

“If no one else has taken it by now,” Glinda mutters. She closes her eyes and takes a breath, then climbs to her feet. “Right. Okay. Let’s go. Um…which way is it?”

Elphaba laughs out loud, and Glinda can practically feel her stress melting away. She takes the hand Elphaba offers her and lets herself be led through the trees.

 

***

 

They move somewhat slowly. Elphaba takes her time scanning the plants they walk by, picking clusters of berries or digging up different roots and sticking them in her pouch. Glinda keeps reaching for the back of her head, running her fingers over the bump that’s still tender. Elphaba catches her once, but Glinda just combs through her hair casually and flashes a grin up at her.

It’s not very far to go, but it takes them a while to recognize the place. In fact, it’s nearly midday when Glinda stops them, and that’s only because she sees the sapling that had been snapped in half during the fight.

“There,” she says, pointing. She and Elphaba creep closer, and she draws her dagger when she feels her hair stand on end. “But…wait…”

“There isn’t a body here,” Elphaba says quietly. “You’re sure this is the place?”

“Yeah. See the tree? And look, there’s our stuff.”

Sure enough, Glinda’s bag is there, torn apart and half-buried in the mud. She kneels next to it, scooping aside the mud to see what can be recovered. Elphaba turns in a slow circle, gazing around.

“This isn’t right,” she says. “It’s so muddy here, we should at least be able to see where it was—an indent of the body, or marks from the crane if they had a hovercraft pick it up.”

“But there’s nothing.”

“Not even tracks.”

“Tracks?” Glinda rises to her feet, her eyebrows raised. “Elphie, that thing is dead. What tracks would there be?”

“I don’t know. But there should be _something_.” She looks around them. “You can’t even see our footprints from that day. It’s not right.”

“They just faded.” Glinda’s voice is tight. “It’s been a couple days.”

“It just…doesn’t feel right.”

Elphaba’s right, it doesn’t, but Glinda has no answer. And at the moment, she doesn’t want to dwell on it.

“Then let’s get our stuff and get out of here. Come on.”

She kneels back down and starts digging through the supplies again. The bag is too torn up to be of any use, along with the most of its contents. Glinda pulls the blanket free and Elphaba helps her shake it out and beat off most of the mud. The water bottle has a dent in it, but it’s still holding most of its water. Glinda folds the blanket around it in a makeshift bundle, then loops it through her belt. It’s less awkward than she expected, and it feels like a small victory.

“Are you happy now?” Elphaba asks, still looking around them. Glinda takes her hand.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

They pick a direction and hurry away from the area. The sun that has been shining bright all morning fades away, and Glinda glances up at the lack of warmth. The sky looks as though it’s been drained of color, leaving nothing but a pale, dreary gray, and though it’s not dark, there’s no sign of the sun. Glinda frowns.

“Do you think it’ll snow?” Elphaba asks, following her gaze.

“I hope not.”

“It’s getting colder.”

“Yeah… Let’s keep moving.”

They do, but the temperature drops around them at a suspiciously unnatural rate. The knot at the back of Glinda’s head throbs with the temperature change. She does her best to just grit her teeth and bear it, but after a couple more hours she finds herself lagging a few steps behind Elphaba. The green girl stops and looks back at her.

“Are you…?”

“Fine.”

Elphaba shifts her weight. “It’s getting bad out here. We should…”

“It’s nowhere near sundown. I don’t want to camp out and just sit there for the rest of the day.”

“But…”

“I’m fine, Elphaba.”

Elphaba looks like she’s about to argue, but then her gaze fixes on something behind Glinda. She freezes.

Glinda spins around, drawing the dagger from her belt, but there’s nothing there. She steps back until she feels Elphaba’s hand on her shoulder.

“What did you see?”

“Look.” Elphaba points at the ground. Glinda stares until she sees it—a set of paw prints in the mud, just like the one she saw the other day. She moves closer to Elphaba.

“We should keep moving,” she says. This time, Elphaba doesn’t argue.

 

***

 

Glinda makes it until the sky starts getting dark.

They haven’t come across any more tracks, but the air is still growing colder, especially now that night is falling. The throbbing in her head is exhausting her, and she’s starting to feel nauseous. Elphaba has slowed down to walk beside her, her arm wrapped warmly around her shoulders.

“Seriously, Glinda, I think we need to stop.”

“But…”

“You’re paler than the sky was earlier, and you haven’t eaten anything since noon.”

“I’m not hungry,” she protests, somewhat weakly.

“Yeah, that’s what worries me. Come on. We’re finding shelter for the night.”

“But those tracks…”

Elphaba presses her lips together and leads them forward. “We haven’t seen any in a while. We can find something small enough that they won’t be interested.”

“Another cave?” Glinda asks, making a face. Elphaba gives her a little smirk.

“It’ll be easier. And warmer,” she adds as Glinda shivers.

“We have the blanket.”

“Well, then we’ll be downright toasty.”

Glinda rolls her eyes, but she’s nearly leaning on Elphaba at this point, so she can’t argue that much. They find a tiny cave near an only slightly larger stream, and Glinda climbs inside and nearly collapses on the ground.

She unties the blanket from her belt and pulls out the now empty water bottle. Elphaba takes it from her and replaces it with a small cluster of roots from her pouch.

“Eat,” she says, rising to her feet.

“But I—”

“These will settle your stomach.” With that, Elphaba leaves to fill up the water bottle. Glinda pulls the blanket around her shoulders and nibbles reluctantly on a root. She scoots to the entrance of the cave and watches Elphaba at the stream.

Elphaba catches her gaze and raises an eyebrow. Glinda feels her cheeks heat up and busies herself with the root, which is, thank Oz, making her feel a little better.

“It’s cold out here,” Elphaba says, returning and offering the water to her. “We should go in.”

“The anthem will start soon.” Glinda takes a drink and hands the bottle back. She looks up at the sky, wondering if and when it will actually start snowing.

Elphaba sits next to her, and Glinda scoots over until they’re pressed together and she can wrap both of them in the blanket. Elphaba reaches up and gently rubs the back of Glinda’s neck.

“I think you might have a concussion,” she says quietly. Her fingers are cold, soothing against her skin. Glinda’s eyes flutter shut.

“Maybe. But what can we do about it?” She leans her head back into Elphaba’s hand.

Elphaba makes a noise in her throat, but she doesn’t say anything. A minute later, they both look up as the Emerald City’s emblem lights up the sky. The anthem rings loudly in Glinda’s ears, but at least there are no pictures tonight. The music fades again, and in the last couple of seconds of glowing light, they can see the first few flurries of snow fall. Glinda stares at it for a long while. The valley is still and quiet, and next to her Elphaba is warm. She feels calm.

“We should go in,” Elphaba breathes eventually. Glinda just nods and follows her back inside. Elphaba divides some food between them, and Glinda does her best to eat. There’s still a good amount left when she scoops it back into their little pouch of food, but she moves over and curls up against Elphaba before the green girl can scold her. Elphaba tucks the blanket around both of them, then wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer. Glinda rests her head against Elphaba’s shoulder and listens to her breathing.

“What are you thinking?” she murmurs.

“Nothing.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Elphaba’s free hand finds hers and tangles their fingers together. She sighs. “I’m thinking about the mountain lion.”

“The tracks we saw?”

“Well, yeah, that too. But mostly the body we didn’t find.”

Glinda tilts her head up. Elphaba’s eyes are dark.

“It’s just… Glinda, you stabbed that thing in the neck. With two blades. If that didn’t kill it…”

“It’s dead,” Glinda says. She tries to sit up, but Elphaba’s arm tightens around her, keeping her close. “We saw it.”

“We barely had time to see it. We were running from the others.”

Glinda closes her eyes. She can feel Elphaba’s chest rising steadily up and down with every breath. Her hand shifts in Elphaba’s, her fingers reaching to brush against her wrist. After a moment or two, she can feel a gentle pulse.

“I don’t know,” she whispers finally.

“I don’t either, but I’m guessing we’re going to find out.” Elphaba lets out another sigh. “You should get some rest. I’ll take first watch.”

She presses her fingers against Elphaba’s wrist, reminding herself of the pulse still beating there. She tries to say something, but it comes out as little more than a whimper. Elphaba presses a kiss to the top of her head in response, whispering for her to sleep. Glinda fights it for a moment or two, but her exhaustion quickly wins over and, giving in, she buries her face further into Elphaba’s jacket, doing her best to melt into her embrace.


	15. Chapter 15

“This can’t be natural.”

Glinda looks over at Elphaba, who has her head tilted back to face the sky. She follows her gaze, scowling a little. It’s nearing midday, but they have yet to see the sun. The sky is still the same dreary, pale color as the day before, and the temperature still seems to be dropping. The only difference, Glinda thinks as she kicks at the ground, is the snow.

It’s not falling now, but it will be again soon. It’s been off and on all morning, too sporadic to be a pattern, but also too… _convenient_ to be just natural.

“You’re right,” she says. “I don’t like it.”

“There are still eight of us.” Elphaba sounds uncertain. “They can’t be planning a finale yet, can they?”

Glinda thinks about it. “There are eight of us, but we’re all spread out around the arena. And we’re still grouped up.”

“You think they’re going to try to separate us?” The question sounds heavier than it’s supposed to, and it takes a moment for Glinda to catch her breath before answering.

“The alliance,” Glinda says slowly. “As far as we know, they’re all still together. That’s unusual for it being this late in the Games. The Emerald City is going to be focusing on that.”

“Probably,” Elphaba adds.

“Hopefully.”

They start walking again. They’ve been hugging the mountains all day, staying as far away from the Cornucopia as possible, though the snow has been stopping them from getting too high up. Glinda’s head feels better today, probably because Elphaba is forcing her to eat and drink every time they stop and rest for a few minutes—which also happens much more than the last few days.

It’s during one of these stops that Glinda sees the tracks.

She nearly groans out loud at the sight. The Gamemakers have to be doing this on purpose, just to mess with them, and Glinda is sick of it. But then she pauses, her gaze following the trail further away. Something is wrong. The forest is too quiet.

She reaches back and grabs Elphaba’s wrist, stopping her from pulling out their food. Elphaba falls still under her touch.

“What is it?”

“We need to get out of here.”

Elphaba jerks a little, her breath catching in her throat, and Glinda knows she sees the tracks, too.

“They’re leading away from us.” Glinda tries to keep her voice even, to be reassuring.

“But it’s so quiet,” says Elphaba. “Wherever that thing is, it’s close. You’re right, let’s get out of here. There’s water nearby—can you hear it? We can lose it there.”

But they don’t even get a chance to move before the sound of a twig snapping stops them. Glinda steps back until her shoulder is against Elphaba’s. She draws her dagger as Elphaba raises her fists in front of her.

Something’s off, though. When they were attacked the first time, Glinda could distinctly feel something watching her. Now, despite the tracks and the too-quiet trees, she feels nothing. And that twig snapping. A mountain lion wouldn’t do that, would it?

“Elphie,” Glinda whispers. “I think there’s someone else here.”

She feels Elphaba’s shoulders tense further, but the green girl gives no other response. Glinda understands; she doesn’t know what to do. Glinda doesn’t, either, but she can’t let it show. She needs to be in control—not for the Emerald City’s sake, but for Elphaba’s.

“W-who’s there?” The voice takes her by surprise, but Glinda focuses on it, going through the remaining tributes in her head. It sounds female, but it doesn’t have the higher tones of a Gillikinese accent. That rules out any of the Careers. But if it’s not the alliance, then who is it? Who else is wandering on their own? She and Elphaba, Fiyero, and…

They’re too exposed where they’re standing. Glinda tugs Elphaba to the side, pulling them down to kneel in the underbrush. Glinda brushes away the snow as best she can and leans forward, peering through the trees. Their line of sight is different from here, and after a moment or two Glinda catches sight of the girl who had spoken.

She’s crouching low to the ground, and her face is shadowed by the branches she’s under. It’s one of the Vinkan girls—the last one, Glinda realizes. They’re in no danger of being spotted, since she’s a fair distance away and looking in another direction, but Glinda can’t help but stare. The girl looks young—so ridiculously young—and so scared. Her body is tense, her jaw set, and she looks confident with the spear she’s holding in her hands, but her head twists around, her eyes darting wildly from side to side. Her hair is a painfully tangled mess around her face, and her clothes are rumpled and torn. She’s too skinny, too pale, too shaky. Even if she had paid more attention during their week in the Emerald City, Glinda isn’t sure she would be able to recognize this girl now. Their time in the Games has changed her. She came in a proud Vinkan, a hunter, and now she’s little more than prey—fierce, desperate prey, but prey nonetheless.

That’s when Glinda realizes it. The mountain lion is nearby, but it’s not after them. The Vinkan girl knows she’s being stalked, but she thinks it’s another tribute. And here Glinda is, knowing all too well what’s about to happen, waiting for it to unfold.

 _I’m no better than the Emerald City_ , Glinda thinks. She feels torn—dying to run and save the girl in front of them, but at the same time unwilling and unable to leave Elphaba’s side. She needs to go help the Vinkan girl, or she needs to grab Elphaba and get out of here, but instead she finds herself rooted to the spot, her body frozen as her mind tears apart.

“Glinda?” Elphaba’s hands grab her shoulders, squeezing gently. “Glinda, are you okay?”

“We need to help her,” Glinda whispers. Her voice rings strangely in her ears. “She’s going to die. We need to—”

They shouldn’t be able to hear the growl, but they do. It seems to resonate through the valley, through Glinda’s entire body. She watches as, in slow motion, the Vinkan spins toward the sound, raising her spear just in time to stop the creature leaping toward her.

The girl shoves the cat off to the side, her spear snapping in the process. Glinda feels freezing sweat cover her body as she watches the two circle each other. Elphaba pulls her close and holds her almost painfully tight.

“We can’t do anything,” she breathes.

“It’s one mountain lion. The three of us could take it.” Glinda squirms in Elphaba’s arms.

“No,” she hisses, tightening her grip. “Glinda, please, we need to get out of here.”

But even as she says it, Elphaba stays crouched down. Neither of them have looked away from the fight. The Vinkan holds her spear up, the broken end still sharp enough to be threatening, and bares her teeth at the creature. The cat jumps at her, but she braces herself and thrusts her weapon out. It catches the creature in the chest as they both fall to the ground.

Glinda stares in horror, her fingers digging into Elphaba’s arm. After a moment, the mountain lion’s body is heaved to the side, and the girl climbs unsteadily to her feet. She leans over and pulls her spear from the cat’s chest, inspecting it for a moment before wiping it on the grass.

“Come on,” Elphaba whispers. She takes a breath to say something else, but she’s cut off by another low growl. The Vinkan girl spins around, her eyes wide.

“No way,” Glinda breathes. Behind her, Elphaba’s shaky gasp echoes in her ear. All three of them watch as the mountain lion rises slowly to its feet, its muscles tensing as it crouches low and faces the Vinkan. _Not possible_ , Glinda thinks, staring at the thick blood pooling where the creature had been lying moments ago. There’s no way it could have survived.

Apparently the Vinkan thinks so too, because she’s paler than ever, and her spear hangs loosely in her hand. She starts to back away, tripping over her own feet.

“Glinda, _please_ , let’s go.” Elphaba’s voice is desperate. Before she can even nod, Glinda feels herself being yanked to her feet and led backwards, away from the fight. Elphaba pulls her through the trees in a half-crouch, half-run, her grip never leaving Glinda’s arm. They’ve made it barely fifty feet when the cannon sounds, echoing in the woods behind them.

“Keep moving,” Glinda says, her thoughts finally leaving the Vinkan girl and focusing on them. They do their best to slip away without making a sound, but Glinda keeps glancing over their shoulder at the tracks they’re making in the snow. “Elphie…”

Elphaba glances back, her brow furrowing. She looks ahead again, and her grip on Glinda’s arm tightens.

“Do you trust me?” she asks, already pulling Glinda over to one side.

“Of course.” Glinda follows her line of sight and notices the rocky ground, the running water, the cut off as it tumbles over the edge. She squints a little. “Elphaba, what—?”

She’s interrupted by the same low, reverberating growls they heard earlier. Elphaba rises to a sprint, dragging Glinda along with her.

“Don’t look back,” she orders. Her grip still hasn’t left Glinda’s arm, and she’s leading them closer and closer to the water. “Can you swim?”

“You’re not seriously considering—”

“Glinda, can you swim?”

“Y-yes.”

Elphaba jerks them to the right, heading straight for the falls. “And you still trust me?”

“Oh, Oz.”

They skid to a halt right at the edge. Elphaba’s grip leaves her arm and finds her hand instead, holding it so tight that it shakes. Glinda looks over the edge. It’s not a long drop, but the stream is deeper and wider than any of the others they’ve come across, and the water is sure to be freezing.

“Glinda.”

She looks back over her shoulder, then up at Elphaba. Their eyes meet, and Glinda nods, squeezing Elphaba’s hand back.

Glinda looks down again. The water seems to be moving faster than a moment ago. She swallows hard, but then more growls sound behind them, and Elphaba is yelling at her to jump, and it’s too late for second guessing. Her feet move automatically and her hand stays locked with Elphaba’s. For a second there’s nothing but cold air.

And then there’s nothing but freezing water, soaking instantly through her entire body. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she feels herself being pushed around in the current, but her feet brush the ground beneath her and she kicks off, scrambling for the surface.

She comes up at the same time as Elphaba, gasping for breath, teeth already chattering. She grabs Elphaba and pulls them together. The current is just strong enough to carry them downstream, but Elphaba turns and stares back at the cliff.

“Look,” she says. Glinda lets go of her just long enough to push her wet hair back, then follows her gaze.

The mountain lion stands at the edge of the cliff, staring down at them with its hackles raised. She can still see the gaping wound in its chest, but what concerns her more is the second cat, pacing agitatedly a few feet behind the first.

“There are more,” she says. Her fingers dig into Elphaba’s jacket. “There are more, and they’re hunting together.”

“And they can’t be killed,” says Elphaba. They stare up at the creatures, which, after watching them for another minute or two, turn and leave. “This is bad.”

The current has calmed down now that they’re away from the falls, and they’re mostly just floating in place. They’re both shivering violently, and Glinda feels horribly exposed in the middle of the water.

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s just focus on not freezing to death for now.”

They swim for the bank and clamber out of the water. Glinda collapses on the ground only to remember that it’s covered in snow. She hisses in a breath and jerks to her feet, bouncing up and down to keep warm. She pulls Elphaba up next to her and huddles close.

“Let’s find a cave,” says Elphaba. “It’ll be dry, and I might be able to start a fire.”

Glinda glances at the sky. It’s cloudy enough that they might be able to get away with it, at least for a little while. Not that they have a choice—they’ll freeze if they don’t do something. Her teeth are chattering so much she doesn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nods and lets Elphaba lead the way.

They stumble away from the stream. Glinda is shivering so badly even her breath stutters in and out. She pulls out her dagger, feeling weak and exposed and worried about the mountain lions wandering around nearby, but she can’t even manage a firm grip on the weapon. They don’t make it far before Elphaba finds a good spot. It’s more of an alcove than a cave, but it’s free of snow and the rocks hang out far enough to shelter them from the wind.

Glinda takes off her shoes and socks and lays them across the ground to dry faster. She does the same with the blanket and her jacket, then turns to help Elphaba, who is gathering branches from around the alcove.

“All of these had snow on them,” Glinda says, even as she starts stacking them. “They’ll never light.”

Elphaba glances up, her face unreadable, then focuses back down on the wood. She holds her hands over the pile, clenching and unclenching her fingers. Her eyebrows scrunch together and she bites her lip.

Nothing happens. Glinda kneels, sitting back on her heels, and rubs her arms fiercely. After a minute or two, she crosses to the other side of the wood pile and gently peels the wet jacket from Elphaba’s shoulders. Elphaba helps her take it off, never looking away from her work. Glinda spreads the jacket out next to hers and settles back down again. She bites the inside of her cheek and keeps quiet.

When it happens, it doesn’t come from Elphaba’s hands. Flames—full, bright, warm flames—spring to life from the center of the wood pile. Glinda jerks back, then hurries to Elphaba’s side.

“How did you do that?”

Elphaba shrugs. “I don’t know. I just…did.”

“You’ve been practicing.” Glinda laces their fingers together and scoots closer to the fire. “In training you nearly set the entire room on fire.”

She gives a short laugh. “I haven’t really been practicing. Just…looking at it another way.”

“What do you mean?”

“During training, the instructor had me casting magic from myself—like the flames, or the bursts of energy. But as you might have noticed, that’s hard to control.” She smiles wryly, then looks down at the flames. “But if I can draw the magic from something else…”

“So instead of creating fire yourself, you coaxed it from the wood—the same way you would when making a fire by hand.”

“Yeah. I’ve never wanted to study sorcery, but one of the few things I know is that everything has magic in it. Everything.”

Glinda looks up at Elphaba, studying the side of her face. “I can believe that.”

 

***

 

Staying still is unnerving. Glinda looks around—unsuccessfully—for something to eat, all the while keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of Careers or mountain lions. She stays close enough to keep in sight of Elphaba, who is attempting to dry their clothes without setting them on fire. Both are anxious to get moving again, but it’s still well into the afternoon before they can put their jackets and shoes back on.

The parachute drops just as Elphaba is spreading out the ashes of their fire. Glinda freezes when she sees it. She stumbles back, nearly tripping over Elphaba, who looks up.

“What is it?” she asks, rising to her feet. Her eyes widen. “A sponsor.”

Glinda lowers herself to the ground, staring at the gift. Elphaba nudges her.

“What’s wrong? You got a sponsor—go see what it is.”

“No.” The word sticks in her throat, coming out only as a strange croak. She swallows, shakes her head, and tries again. “No, I don’t want it.”

Elphaba stares. “What—”

“The last time Morrible sent me something it was a message. She sent me a knife. She was telling me to kill you.” Glinda takes a breath. She can feel the blood draining from her face.

Elphaba studies her for a moment, then turns and picks up the silver parachute. Glinda makes a sound in the back of her throat, but Elphaba ignores it and sits in front of her, holding the gift in her lap. It’s a pouch this time, and it’s bigger than what Glinda received earlier. A little note hangs on the outside, but Glinda doesn’t see any words written on it. Instead, there’s just a single mark—a hoof print.

“What the…” Glinda leans forward and turns the note over. The back side is blank. It really is just a hoof print. She shows it to Elphaba, whose face lights up.

“Dillamond!”

“Who?”

“My mentor. He must have sent it.” She tears the parachute off and opens the bag. “Oh Oz. Glinda, look at this.”

It’s full of bread—a dozen or so rolls of baked bread so fresh she can smell it. Elphaba grins.

“It’s from Munchkinland. See the nuts and berries baked in? Farmers eat these a lot during harvest season, when they’re out in the fields all day. Oz, it almost smells like Nanny’s cooking.”

Glinda peers into the bag. “What’s this?” Something is nestled between the rolls, small and soft and wrapped in brown paper. She pulls it out and holds it up. Elphaba tilts her head.

“I don’t know. Open it.”

Glinda does. She nearly drops it when she realizes what it is, but then her fingers tangle into the material.

“A scarf?” asks Elphaba.

“It looks just like the ones Ama makes,” whispers Glinda, holding it close.

“It’s yours,” says Elphaba. Glinda blinks and looks over at her.

“But…it’s your sponsor…”

Elphaba shakes her head. “This was definitely for both of us. You’ve talked about your Ama before—someone must have remembered and sent you that.”

She stares back down at the scarf. “It looks so much like hers…”

“I think it’s your token.”

Glinda quickly puts it on, wrapping it snugly around her neck. It’s warm and smells like freshly baked bread— _like Nanny’s cooking_ , Elphaba had said. Ama’s knitting and Nanny’s cooking. Two things that fit perfectly together, though they were never supposed to.

“What’s wrong?” asks Elphaba, scooting closer. She brushes her thumb across Glinda’s cheek, and suddenly Glinda realizes she’s crying.

“N-nothing,” she stammers, wiping at her eyes. “It’s nothing. We should get going.”

Elphaba studies her for a long moment, but she doesn’t argue. She ties up the bag of bread and helps a still-sniffling Glinda to her feet. Elphaba adjusts the scarf around her neck, almost absentmindedly.

“It suits you,” she says, running her fingers across the deep emerald material. Glinda flushes, which causes Elphaba to smirk and lean down and, after only a moment’s hesitation, press a kiss to her cheek.

 

***

 

They keep moving throughout the afternoon. Maybe it’s because they’re paying more attention now, but they see more and more mountain lion prints. The tracks keep them from going too far up the mountains even more than the snow had, and Glinda finds herself glaring up at the sky, as if she can see the Gamemakers that are sure to be watching them.

“We’re being herded,” she grumbles as they see yet another set of tracks. Elphaba glances up the mountain, then up at the sky, but doesn’t give a response. They angle away, moving just a little closer to the Cornucopia. Glinda wonders if Fiyero is out there somewhere doing the same thing. She wonders if he hates it as much as they do.

The wind picks up a little, and the next time Glinda looks around she realizes it’s snowing. She scrunches her nose and zips up her jacket. Elphaba steps closer so that their shoulders brush together, and that’s when they hear the cannon.

They move automatically, pulling each other down to duck beneath the underbrush. The sound resonates through the valley, echoing strangely off the mountainsides.

“It…doesn’t _sound_ close,” whispers Elphaba.

“In this arena, who knows,” says Glinda. “I wonder who…”

The first person to come to mind is Fiyero, but Glinda desperately hopes it isn’t him. She stares through the tops of the trees for a glimpse of the hovercraft that will take away the dead tribute, but if it appears, she doesn’t see it.

They start looking for shelter just as the sun begins to disappear behind the western peaks. Between the mountain lion tracks and the temperamental weather, they’ve ended up uncomfortably close to the Cornucopia, but it’s getting late and Glinda has no desire to be wandering closer to the Careers in the dark.

The sky lights up, interrupting their search, and they stop for a moment to watch the anthem play. Glinda flinches at the image of the Vinkan girl. Elphaba wraps both arms around her and holds her close.

The next picture is of a Gillikin boy. Glinda stares up at it, wondering.

“Fiyero must have gotten him,” she whispers.

“No offense to Fiyero, but I doubt he could face the Careers and make it out alive.”

“Then…how? What do you think happened?”

Elphaba makes a noise in the back of her throat. “It could be the mountain lions. Or maybe he accidentally ate poisoned berries or something.”

Glinda twists her head to look back at her. “You don’t think it was either of those, do you?”

“No.” Elphaba bites her lip and doesn’t meet her eye. “I think they’ve started to turn on each other. But…”

“But that sounds too good to be true,” says Glinda. The Careers dividing means they have more of a chance. But then again… “Or too bad to be true.”

Elphaba tucks her face into her neck. Glinda can feel her breathing deeply. What if they outlive all the Careers? What if Fiyero doesn’t? What happens then?

“We should find somewhere for the night.”

Glinda blinks hard. “Yeah.”

She’s sure they’ll have to build a shelter now that they’re further down the mountain, but Elphaba somehow finds a cave for them to spend the night. Glinda is secretly relieved. It feels familiar, climbing through the underbrush, settling down against the rocks and wrapping the blanket around herself and Elphaba. They break out the bread that was sent to them, and Glinda is convinced it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. She sighs and touches the scarf around her neck.

“How expensive do you suppose all of this was?” she asks.

Elphaba looks down at the roll in her hands. “I’ve been thinking about that. Munchkinland bread and a handmade scarf from Gillikin? It can’t have been easy. Especially since it came for me. My family doesn’t exactly have supporters in the Emerald City.”

Glinda nods. “And Morrible wouldn’t be helping at all. She’s probably betting against me at this point. But…we still have sponsors, somehow.”

“It can’t be that many,” mutters Elphaba. Glinda thinks about all the times they’ve insulted the Hunger Games, or the city, or even the Wizard. Elphaba is right. Even with all they’ve survived, they still can’t possibly be that popular.

“What does it mean?” Glinda asks. “If only a small group supports us, this has to be all they can afford. So why spend all this money? And why now?”

“Because there are only six of us left.” Elphaba’s voice is flat. Glinda shivers.

“Do you really think those mountain lions can’t be killed?” Her voice sounds smaller than usual. Elphaba reaches around and hugs her, nearly pulling Glinda onto her lap in the process.

“I don’t know. There might be a way.”

“If there is, it’s really hard.”

“Yeah.”

Glinda feels her eyes sting and squeezes them shut. “I hate them,” she whispers. “I _hate_ them.”

Elphaba rubs her arm, slow and steadying. “You’re…not talking about the mountain lions, are you?”

She shakes her head, eyes still closed. Elphaba sighs and holds her tighter, and neither girl speaks again for a while.

 

***

 

It’s too cloudy that night for the colors to light up the sky. Glinda crawls back inside the cave, disappointed.

“It’s probably for the best,” she says, returning to her place beside Elphaba. “It’s darker without them, so the others will be less likely to find us.”

Elphaba gives a quiet hum, not entirely agreeing. “Are you tired?” she asks.

“No,” Glinda lies.

“Because I can take first watch.”

“I’m not tired yet.” She’s exhausted, actually, and her place next to Elphaba is as warm and as safe as she can get in the arena, but she can’t bring herself to even close her eyes. From the way Elphaba keeps shifting around and rubbing her face, she feels the same way.

How much time do they have left? It’s a question Glinda keeps trying to avoid, yet somehow, tonight, it refuses to be ignored. She should at least try to sleep—she won’t survive if she doesn’t—but what does survival even mean at this point? Is it something she actually wants?

So she fidgets around and bites back her yawns and tries to draw out every second of the night. Eventually Elphaba reaches up and strokes her hair back.

“Sleep, Glinda.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Yes you are. Sleep. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“But what about the morning after that? Or after that? Will you be here then?” She sounds too weary for it to be a challenge. Elphaba sighs.

“Just rest, my sweet. I’ll wake you for your watch in a few hours.”

Glinda still tries to it, but Elphaba starts humming quietly after that, stroking her hair, and after just a couple of minutes, she feels herself drifting off.

 

***

 

Hours later, Glinda sits watching the sky outside their cave grow brighter, from the early streaks of dawn to the quiet morning sun. She should be waking up Elphaba, but one glance down at the green girl convinces her to wait a while longer.

Elphaba is curled up beside her, her head resting on Glinda’s thigh. Her silky black hair is fanned out across Glinda’s lap, the result of her spending the last couple of hours combing through it. Glinda winds another lock around her fingers and sighs.

She supposes this should be the time for some deep reflection, or maybe she should be thinking about what happens next. Part of her is dying to be up and moving, making some sort of plan. How are either of them going to make it through the Games? If they stay together, they’ll either be killed trying to protect each other, or, maybe even worse, they’ll both survive. And then what happens? Glinda would never hurt Elphaba—and she knows the green girl feels the same—but they can’t outrun the Games forever. Who knows what horrible things the Gamemakers can do to them? Can make them do to each other? Glinda shakes her head, trying to breathe through her tightening throat.

Elphaba’s eyelids flutter and she makes a small noise, pressing herself closer against Glinda’s leg. Glinda combs her fingers again through her hair, letting out a breath. How can she protect Elphaba? It’s the only thing she cares about at this point—how can she make sure Elphaba makes it out of this arena alive?

Glinda turns to gaze outside the cave. She can leave. She can disappear and follow Elphaba from a distance, like at the beginning of the Games. The thought almost makes her laugh. How many times has she told Elphaba that’s what she would do if she was pushed away? And how long was she protecting Elphaba before they actually started working together? She can do it again, and then Elphaba would have every chance of winning. And if it comes down to the two of them then, Glinda can make sure it’s Elphaba who survives. She doesn’t care about winning anymore. She hates the very idea of it.

But then…Elphaba _never_ cared about winning, did she? She hated it from the beginning. If Glinda makes sure Elphaba survives, will she really be doing her any favors, or will she just be insulting her? Hurting her? If Glinda tries to leave, will Elphaba even let her?

Glinda bites down on her lip and brushes at her eyes. She runs her hand through Elphaba’s hair again, pressing lightly against her scalp. Elphaba shifts and turns over, blinking awake and staring up at her. Glinda ducks her head and turns away, blinking hard.

Elphaba sits up and hugs her hard. Glinda sucks in a breath and buries her face against Elphaba’s neck. She’s the one that keeps saying they need to make the most of what they have. She’s the one who has been so certain in their limited time. Yet, with only six tributes left, with their time slipping away faster than she could ever imagine, she’s the one starting to panic, to clutch desperately at whatever chances they have. She knows how pathetic and hypocritical it is, but she can’t bring herself to stop.

Elphaba seems to sense her racing thoughts, because she grips Glinda and refuses to let go.

“Don’t leave me,” Elphaba whispers into her hair. _But what if it’s the only way?_ Glinda wants to ask, but the only sound that comes out is a quiet sob. Elphaba holds the back of her head and takes a ragged breath. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Glinda, but please, just—”

“I won’t.” Glinda’s voice is muffled against Elphaba’s skin.

“Promise me?”

Anything to stop Elphaba from trembling in her arms. “I promise,” she says, even as the tears run freely down her cheeks. “I won’t leave you.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last chapter, so I'd like to take the time now to thank everyone who has read/commented/talked to me about this fic. All of the feedback I've gotten has definitely made this story ten times more awesome to write (and, like, it was pretty fun in the first place). So thank you. You are all incredible.   
> Also, special shout out to behindthec/voidstuff, for letting me send you random ideas in all caps and reading the chapters I send you and also being super awesome when I'm freaking out about the ending. You're pretty neat. :P  
> Okay I'll shut up now. Enjoy.

“Do you think they’ve all split up?”

Glinda glances over at Elphaba, then turns her attention back to the water bottle she’s filling. “The Careers?”

“Yeah. There are three left. Do you think they’re still together after what happened to the boy last night, or did they all go separate ways?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Not true. I think your guess would be better.”

Glinda looks up again, a little irritated. Elphaba kneels next to her and touches her arm. Her eyes are pleading—they have been since last night. “You know what I mean. I just…hate not knowing what’s going on.”

“It _is_ unnerving,” Glinda agrees. She glances away as she hands the bottle to Elphaba, staring down at the stream instead. The water is just calm enough to see her rippling reflection—and Elphaba’s behind her.

“I’m not sure,” she says after a moment. “I don’t think Avaric would care if they were all together at the end. He’d like the challenge. But the others…they’re probably all afraid of being murdered in their sleep.”

Elphaba snorts. “Fair enough. So, there’s the two of us, then Fiyero, then Avaric, then…those two other Gillikin girls, right? You think we’re the only ones still working together?”

“Maybe. Unless…” Glinda thinks back to the videos of the reapings. “Avaric and Shenshen are from the same district. I’m almost certain they knew each other before the Games.”

“You think they’re still in an alliance?”

“I think it’s possible.” She notices Elphaba’s frown. “But there’s no way for us to know for sure. Let’s just worry about that when we get there, okay?”

“If you say so,” Elphaba mutters. “I’m just worried we’re going to get there pretty soon.”

They rise from the stream and start moving again. It’s been a quiet day so far, cloudy and cold, although most of the snow has melted away. Glinda plays with the scarf around her neck, twisting her fingers in and out of the material. They’ve moved gradually away from the Cornucopia, but it doesn’t feel any safer. Elphaba is right. With all of them wandering the arena, there are no guarantees. Whatever is going to happen, it’s going to happen soon.

Glinda looks sideways at Elphaba. They haven’t talked about their conversation last night, but she hasn’t stopped thinking about it since. She’s sure Elphaba hasn’t, either. The green girl keeps glancing back at her or reaching over to grab her hand or bumping their shoulders together—anything to make sure Glinda is still there. It makes Glinda’s heart ache at the same time that it aggravates her. All she wants is to keep Elphaba alive, but every time their skin brushes or their eyes meet she loses all will to leave. She wonders, vaguely, if that’s part of Elphaba’s plan.

Elphaba slows down after a while, her brow furrowed. “Do you think we should stop?” she asks. “We haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Glinda looks around them, hesitating. “I think it’s going to snow. It’s so cloudy. And everything seems so still.”

“Glinda?”

“Not here. We can eat, but I want to keep moving.”

Elphaba meets her gaze. It really does feel like it’s about to snow. Something about the air seems sharp, as if the sky is holding its breath, ready to let go.

“I don’t want to leave tracks for anyone else to find,” says Elphaba. “If it snows, we should find somewhere to wait it out.”

“I’m not sure we’ll be able to,” Glinda mumbles. They keep moving, but Glinda continues to glance up at the sky, waiting for the inevitable.

Elphaba pulls out their pack of food and hands it to her. Glinda reaches for it, then freezes, gripping Elphaba’s hand instead. The breeze is picking up again, swaying the branches, but she swears she hears something else.

“We need to get out of sight.”

Elphaba looks like she’s about to question her, but instead she swings the pack back over her shoulder and lets Glinda tug her to one of the larger evergreens that surround them. Glinda glances around as Elphaba starts climbing. She scrambles up after the green girl, who is already disappearing into the leaves above her.

Elphaba finds a split in the branches big enough for both of them and stops there. She grabs Glinda’s arm and pulls her up the last couple of feet until they’re sitting on side by side branches, leaning on both the trunk and each other.

“What did you—?”

Glinda grips Elphaba’s arm, quieting her, and stares down through the branches. Something rustles nearby, and then two figures appear, only a few yards away from their tree.

“Are you sure there’s something around here?”

Glinda feels Elphaba tense at the sound of Shenshen’s voice. She rubs her arm once, narrowing her eyes at the people below them.

“I told you, I heard someone talking,” says Avaric.

“I think you’re hearing things. No one’s dumb enough to wander around talking to themselves.” Shenshen twirls her axe in one hand, eyeing Avaric carefully. “Unless you think those two are still together.”

“I don’t know,” he says tightly. “All I know is that I heard something.”

“Well, there’s nothing here.”

Elphaba shifts her arm just enough to grab Glinda’s hand. She squeezes her fingers once, drawing her attention, then nods up. Glinda looks at the sky. It’s starting to snow.

“Look.”

Glinda focuses her attention back on the ground. Shenshen is pointing up. Avaric follows her gaze, looking almost straight at their tree in the process. Glinda shrinks into the trunk and holds Elphaba’s hand tighter.

“Perfect.” Avaric’s voice is low. He continues to stare for a long moment. Glinda holds her breath. She can feel her pulse in her ears. Finally, he looks back down. “Wherever they are, they’ll leave tracks.”

“So will we,” Shenshen points out.

“Yes, but between the two of us, we don’t have anyone to fear. Come on.” He touches the sword at his belt and starts walking again.

Shenshen shifts her axe from hand to hand. “That’s what you said about the four of us yesterday,” she mumbles, but she follows him anyway. They pass underneath the tree and disappear back into the forest.

Glinda slumps in her branch, her forehead hitting the trunk. Elphaba squeezes her hand, and for a few minutes they just sit there quietly.

“We should get out of here,” she says eventually. Glinda takes a deep breath and gives a tiny nod. Elphaba starts to move but then pauses, searching her face with that same pleading look.

“What?” Glinda breathes, but Elphaba simply looks away and starts climbing down. Glinda rubs her forehead. “Elphie, wait.”

“We need to go.”

Glinda reaches down for her, leaning precariously off her branch, and grabs her shoulder. Elphaba pauses for a moment, not meeting her eyes. Then she pulls away.

Glinda bites her lip and follows her down. She lands softly beside Elphaba, who grabs her hand and turns away from where Avaric and Shenshen had disappeared. Glinda tightens her grip on Elphaba and holds still, forcing her to stop.

“Come on,” Elphaba whispers, tugging on her. “We have to—”

“Elphaba…do you not trust me anymore?” Glinda stares at their hands as she says it.

“Glinda this _really_ isn’t the time or place.”

“No, it’s not, but when is?”

“When we’re not standing twenty feet away from Avaric!”  

“He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”

“ _That’s what I’m afraid of_!” Elphaba hisses. She lets go of Glinda and presses her palms to her eyes. “Oz, don’t you get it?”

“Get _what_?” Glinda demands, still whispering. “That I don’t want to see you killed?”

“It’s not like I _want_ that to happen, but—”

“But what, Elphaba? You think that I—”

“I can’t stand the thought of you leaving!” Elphaba steps forward, and takes her hand again. Her chest heaves and she towers over Glinda, her eyes desperate. “After everything we’ve been through…you can’t. You just can’t.”

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

“I know. Is that still true?”

Glinda keeps her eyes on their fingers, tangled together, pale skin blurring into emerald. She blinks hard, trying to clear her vision.

“Elphie,” she breathes. “Elphaba, you are the one person…the only thing I ever…if you…”

“Glinda. _Please_.”

“I knew I heard something.”

Avaric’s voice sends a chill down Glinda’s back. The girls spin around and see him standing a few feet away, his sword hanging casually in his hand, smirking. Heat floods Glinda’s face. She clenches her fists and narrows her eyes.

Elphaba squeezes her hand so tight it hurts. “Please, Glinda,” she whispers.

Glinda pulls away from her grip. She steps closer, placing herself half in front of Elphaba. “I won’t,” she breathes. “I promise.”

Avaric brushes the hair out of his face and chuckles. “I have to admit, Miss Glinda,” he says. “I’m a little disappointed. Jeron spoke so highly of you, yet here you are wasting your time with a Munchkin. A _green_ Munchkin, no less.”

Glinda tightens her grip on her dagger. She shoves away everything going on between her and Elphaba—all the dread and panic, all the things she needs to say—and focuses on her anger instead. “Jeron talked about me?” she asks coolly. “Did he mention all the ways I could kill you?”  

Avaric scoffs. “Do you really think I’m afraid of you?”

“Yes,” Elphaba says. “We beat you once, when we were outnumbered. We can do it again.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” says Shenshen from behind them. Elphaba turns around, her back pressing against Glinda’s.

“Pretty confident, Shenshen,” Glinda says, her gaze still fixed on Avaric. “Have you forgotten what happened the last time we fought each other?”

“Why, you little—”

She hears Shenshen start forward, but then a soft humming sounds behind her, and the footsteps stop. Glinda risks looking over her shoulder just long enough to see Elphaba glaring Shenshen down, her fists raised and glowing. Glinda turns back to Avaric.

“The thing is, Miss Glinda,” he says, still smirking, “You couldn’t kill Shenshen. You had every opportunity, but you were too weak. What makes you think you can do it now?”

Glinda grits her teeth and stays silent. She can feel Elphaba’s magic rippling around them. There’s a chance they can win this fight, but to be honest, Avaric terrifies her. And he’s right. They need to get out of here, now. She reaches back to touch Elphaba’s hip, grabbing her jacket and tugging lightly. Elphaba shifts her feet, taking a half step in that direction.

Glinda glances down at the dagger in her hand, weighing her options even as she adjusts her grip and pulls her arm back.

“ _Go!_ ” Glinda throws the dagger as she shouts the command. She feels Elphaba disappear, running off to the side, and follows after her, resisting the urge to look back and see where her blade landed. Avaric cries out, but there’s no cannon.

“Did you get him?” asks Elphaba.

“I think so, but it wasn’t serious,” Glinda pants. “Throwing isn’t my greatest strength.”

“You’re unnarmed now.”

“Uh huh. Keep running.”

They do. They sprint through the forest, crashing through the trees loud enough to attract the entire arena, but Glinda doesn’t care. She can hear Shenshen close behind them. The thought of her leaving Avaric alone with a knife in his side is wildly, inappropriately funny to Glinda, and she has the sudden urge to laugh out loud. It turns into a sob and catches in her throat, and she coughs violently, stumbling a little. Elphaba grabs her hand and drags her forward.

The snow is falling faster now, starting to obscure their vision. They need to lose Shenshen before they start leaving tracks. Elphaba lets go of her and twists around, swinging her hand, palm open, behind them. There’s a rush of wind and a crash, but when Glinda looks around Shenshen is still right behind them. Elphaba swings again, and this time they hear the snapping of a branch, followed by Shenshen cursing.

A cannon goes off, echoing through the arena, but it doesn’t come from behind. Instead it’s from the side, where the ground slopes down. Glinda freezes, skidding to a halt and instinctively pulling Elphaba closer. Fiyero is just down the hill, climbing to his feet and pulling his sword out of the other Gillikin girl. He looks up at them, meeting Glinda’s eyes, and recognition flickers across his face.

“Look out!”

Elphaba shoves Glinda as Shenshen leaps back into view. They stumble over each other and all but roll down the hill toward Fiyero. Shenshen stands above them, grinning.

“Perfect.”

She lifts her axe and jumps down. Glinda climbs to her feet, pulling Elphaba along with her. Shenshen misses them by mere inches and is raising her arm to swing again, but before she can Fiyero jumps in between them, blocking her.

Glinda stares, open-mouthed, even as she yanks Elphaba to her feet. Fiyero locks his blade against Shenshen’s and pushes against her. Growling, she kicks out, shoving him back. She drops low and kicks again, knocking him off his feet, and Glinda’s focus returns.

She runs forward before Shenshen can swing down and grabs the handle of the axe. She punches at Shenshen’s wrist with one hand, trying to break her grip. Shenshen shoves her back, but she holds tight and drags them both down. Glinda hits the ground hard and rolls, keeping her grip on the axe and struggling to gain the upper hand. She pries at Shenshen’s fingers, manages to shove one hand off, and yanks on the weapon to free it from her grip. She barely notices when Shenshen’s free hand reaches for her belt.

“Glinda, _move_!”

Elphaba’s shout warns her just in time. Glinda scrambles away as Shenshen pulls out a small knife and swings up. The blade catches her anyway, slicing through the layers of clothes covering her side. It’s a shallow cut, but it’s enough to force Glinda to put a hand to it, sucking in a breath and crawling back.

Shenshen follows after her, lifting her axe again, but a blast of energy knocks her to the side. Glinda turns her head and squeezes her eyes shut as the air rushes by her. When she looks up again, Shenshen is sprawled across the ground, her axe lying a few feet away.

Fiyero moves toward her and raises his sword. Elphaba kneels next to Glinda, feeling at her side, but the blonde is focused on Fiyero. She stares up at his face as the cannon sounds, but it remains blank.

Until he turns toward them.

_Four left,_ Glinda thinks as Elphaba pulls her to her feet. _And three of them are standing right here._

“You.” Fiyero stares at Glinda. “You were there when they…when they killed Sarima.”

Maybe it’s supposed to be an accusation, but he’s breathing hard and looks more disbelieving than suspicious. Still, she flinches, stepping back into Elphaba.

“I’m sorry.” Glinda’s voice is hoarse. “I…”

“Glinda,” Elphaba says urgently. “Glinda, Avaric won’t be far behind. We need to get out of here.”

Glinda stares at Fiyero. His gaze is hard as he meets her eyes, his jaw working. His fingers tighten around his sword. Glinda shuffles further into Elphaba, who takes a half step in front of her, arms reaching back to wrap protectively around her.

Fiyero blinks hard and swallows, then takes a step back. He looks at Elphaba, then back at Glinda, and this time there’s something else in his eyes. Something vulnerable. Something understanding.

He nods once, then backs away and turns, disappearing into the trees.


	17. Chapter 17

Glinda and Elphaba run blindly through the trees. The snowfall has turned into an all-out storm. The sky is a solid dark grey, and even through the snow Glinda sees flashes of light in the distance, like cameras going off. The wind picks up, too, grabbing her hair and clothes and biting her cheeks. She can barely see Elphaba a few feet away from her.

They keep running anyway.

Avaric is behind them—they heard him shouting when the hovercraft lowered to pick up Shenshen—but Glinda doesn’t look back to see how close he is. Not that she can see through the storm anyway. Avaric could be ten feet in front of them and they wouldn’t know until it was too late. They can’t hear much, either. The wind howling through the trees around them sounds like running footsteps, or the growl of a mountain lion, or whatever other terrors the Gamemakers could be sending out.

Glinda’s side burns. She keeps a hand on it as she runs, pressing into the warmth that is seeping through her clothes. She wonders, briefly, if Elphaba knows a spell that can help her, but she’s not sure there’s a point.

The sky flashes again, bright enough to leave Glinda blinking away spots, but no thunder accompanies it. Maybe it’s some strange trick of the Gamemakers, or maybe the sound is muffled by the snow falling thick around them. There’s more than enough on the ground now to leave tracks. Even in this weather, they won’t be able to lose Avaric.

“We can’t run forever,” she tells Elphaba, raising her voice to be heard over the wind.

“You got a better plan?”

She turns her head to scowl at her, but Elphaba catches her eye and flashes a grin, and for a split second everything bad disappears. They drift closer and keep running.

Glinda is exhausted. Her lungs and her throat burn, her cheeks feel frozen, every bone and muscle shakes and feels like it’s about to give out. The wind pushes against them, slowing them down, and despite Elphaba’s smirk Glinda knows that she’s right. They can’t go on forever.

They don’t even get the chance.

The wind slows, shifts direction, and through the briefest break in the snow Glinda catches a glimpse of the tracks ahead of them, scattered in front of the remains of a fallen tree. She grabs Elphaba’s wrist and turns sharply, causing both of them to stumble.

“The tracks,” she pants, tugging Elphaba along. “Not that way. Come on.”

They’ve slowed enough that they can get a good look at each other. Elphaba’s eyes widen as she looks her up and down.

“Glinda, your side—”

“It’s fine.”

“But—”

“It’s _fine_ , Elphie. Now come on! We need to—”

They hear the growling, then Avaric’s cry of triumph. Automatically, they step together to stand side by side, and Glinda realizes—again—that she’s unnarmed. _Idiot,_ she curses herself. She should have grabbed a weapon from Shenshen’s body. Even the axe would be better than nothing. How could she make such a stupid, amateur mistake?

Avaric appears first, jaw set and eyes hard. For a moment he just glares at them, breathing hard. Glinda narrows her eyes, trying to see where her dagger hit him, if it did. It’s hard to tell with the snow swirling around them, but his jacket is stained and clinging to his waist on one side. Her own wound flares up as if in sympathy.

He draws his sword. Elphaba raises her hands, summoning that familiar hum of energy. Glinda crouches slowly and sweeps her hand across the snow, her fingers finding and wrapping around one of the thicker sticks that litter the ground.

Avaric runs forward before she can stand up again. Glinda tenses, breathing deeply. She waits until he gets close enough, then dives at him, wrapping her arms around his knees and knocking him to the ground.

He falls half on top of her, his sword falling into the snow with a soft _thump_. The cold starts to seep in through her clothes, and she automatically curls in on herself, cradling her side.  Her head throbs and she holds perfectly still as Avaric rolls off of her. More growling sounds behind them, and Glinda grits her teeth and forces herself to climb to her hands and knees.

She looks over her shoulder just in time to see Elphaba spinning around and thrusting her arms out at the mountain lion leaping toward her. She manages to knock it back, but the strength of the spell forces her down and she lands hard on her back, wheezing. The mountain lion shakes itself off and turns toward her again.

“Elphie!” Glinda shouts. She grabs her stick and tosses it at the green girl. Elphaba’s jaw sets as she catches it, but instead of swinging out she hovers her hand over the end, her brow furrowing. The cat stalks closer.

Glinda scrambles to her feet, ready to tackle it if she has to, but Avaric is getting up again. He grabs her jacket and yanks her back to the ground. Glinda turns on him with a snarl, even as she hears Elphaba crying out behind her, and punches him hard in the jaw. Avaric loses his grip and she turns back to Elphaba, terrified of what she’s going to see.

But Elphaba is still standing, the stick in her hand now fully ablaze. The mountain lion has fallen back, watching the fire with its head low and hackles raised.

Avaric grunts behind her, and Glinda reluctantly turns back to him. He’s on his hands and knees, reaching for his sword. Glinda rushes forward, but he beats her there. He grabs the hilt and swings wildly, forcing her back.

“Stay back!” she hears Elphaba yell.

She looks over as the mountain lion attempts to circle around Elphaba, its gaze set on Glinda and Avaric, but the green girl steps in its way and swings her branch, driving it back again. Glinda turns to Avaric just as he’s rising to his feet. She dives as he swings at her again and rolls closer. Rising on her knees, she grabs his jacket to pull him toward her and slams her fist into the wound at his side.

Avaric screams out a curse, and Glinda takes advantage of his distraction by grabbing his wrist and prying the sword from his fingers.

“Look out!”

The mountain lion has made it past Elphaba. Glinda rises to her knees and raises the sword just in time. It leaps at her, landing on the blade and knocking her to the ground. Elphaba screams her name, but Glinda’s breath has vanished and she can’t respond. She lies there, wheezing, beneath the body. Spots dance in her vision and all of her senses seem focused on the pain that has exploded at the back of her head.

The body above her shifts and rolls to the side, and then Elphaba’s there, helping her up. Glinda tries to rise to her feet, but the world tilts and she collapses back on her knees.

“Just give me a second,” she breathes. Elphaba touches the back of her head lightly, then stands up and faces Avaric. He’s limping and clutching at his side, but he pulls his sword out of the cat’s body and points it at them. Elphaba raises her burning branch and tugs on Glinda’s jacket with her free hand, urging her up to wobble and lean against her. For a long moment, the three of them just stand there, waiting for the next move to be made.

Between them, the mountain lion stirs.

Avaric jumps back and gapes as the cat rolls slowly to its side and gets its paws beneath it. Elphaba pushes Glinda behind her and holds the branch out in front of them. They back away as fast as they dare. The mountain lion rises to its feet and turns its head toward them. Elphaba’s grip on the branch shifts nervously. The flame seems to grow brighter, even in the swirling snow.

Slowly, the mountain lion looks away from them. It focuses instead on a wide-eyed Avaric, who shakily lifts his sword. He swallows and glances up at Glinda and Elphaba, fear and fury mixing across his face.

The mountain lion lunges forward, snarling and swinging a heavy paw at Avaric. Glinda grabs Elphaba’s hand and pulls, and then they’re running again.

Glinda’s ears strain to hear the sound of a cannon but, for better or worse, it never comes. Elphaba drops her branch as soon as they can’t hear Avaric or the mountain lion anymore. The fire goes out immediately, and what little light and warmth it provided disappears.

They keep running until Glinda can’t feel anything. She moves automatically, her legs and arms numb, her breathing scraping in and out, every throbbing heartbeat centered on the pain in her side and her head.

Eventually, Elphaba must feel Glinda shaking beside her, because she slows down and starts looking around them.

“This way,” she breathes. Glinda holds her arm at her side and leans heavily on her. Elphaba leads them to a rocky little overhang that’s just big enough to keep out the worst of the storm. She sets Glinda down carefully against the rock.

“How bad is it?” she asks, nodding at Glinda’s side.

“I think it stopped bleeding.”

“Let me see.” Gently, Elphaba moves Glinda’s arm away. Her fingers flutter around the wound, peeling back her torn clothes and inspecting the cut.

“It’s not like we can do anything,” Glinda breathes. She tilts her head back against the rock and closes her eyes. “My head hurts worse, anyway.”

“You should stop getting in fights, then,” Elphaba mutters. Glinda opens her eyes and meets her gaze. She can’t help it. She lets out a tiny giggle.

“Right. I’ll try to remember that.”

Elphaba cups her cheek, then leans up and kisses her lightly. “We should eat,” she whispers.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Who knows how long before we need to move again? We should eat now, before something else happens.”

Glinda’s stomach twists at the thought. “I don’t think I can.”

“We haven’t since morning. We need—”

“Need _what_ , Elphie?” Glinda sighs and softens her voice. “Is there even a point?” Her eyes sting and she brushes at them angrily. Elphaba tilts her head up and meets her gaze.

“Please?” she asks. “Just…indulge me, okay?”

Glinda bites her lip. “Okay.” She cups the back of Elphaba’s neck and draws her closer, bringing their lips together again.

Elphaba pulls back after a moment, panting slightly. “ _Food_ ,” she says firmly, but then Glinda pouts and she leans forward again.

“Don’t,” Glinda breathes when they eventually break apart. Elphaba tries to scoot back, reaching for her bag of food, but Glinda clutches at her shoulders, keeping her close. “Please, just stay here.”

“But—”

“Elphie.”

Elphaba studies her for a long moment. It’s obvious that she wants to protest. She wants to pull out the food and pass the water bottle back and forth and act like it’s any other day, like they still have time. But Glinda just wants Elphaba to hold her.

Elphaba sighs. “Okay,” she says, pulling Glinda closer. “Okay.”

She shrugs the pack of food off and sets it to the side, then pulls the blanket from where it’s tucked around Glinda’s belt and wraps it around them. Glinda lets out a breath and leans further into her, letting the blanket and their body heat warm her. She wants to fall asleep in Elphaba’s arms, but her thoughts are racing too fast to allow her to even shut her eyes. She breathes deeply and tries to force her mind to settle. The snow swirls and falls violently around them. Lightning flashes in the sky, moving closer by the looks of it. It makes their tiny space seem so calm.

It’s unnerving.

Glinda’s side hurts, her head throbs, her lungs burn. Her heart is still racing and she feels like she should still be running. She knows that they’re denying something, acting as if this _isn’t_ possibly the last few moments they spend together. Glinda shudders. Her mind instantly rebels against that idea, reaching desperately for some sort of plan, some form of escape—anything that could give them more options. She holds Elphaba tighter and bites back a whimper.

“I’m right here.” Elphaba runs a hand through her hair. “What’s wrong?”

“This,” Glinda whispers. Elphaba’s grip on her tightens. “I’m not trying to leave,” she says quickly. “It’s just…this feel wrong. We should be fighting, or running, or…” Glinda’s eyes widen a little. “Oz, what if we ran right now? We might be able to—if they’re focused on Avaric and Fiyero, we can—”

“Glinda?”

“I know there are force fields around the arena, but what if we made it to the edge?” Her voice shakes and she talks faster, the words tumbling frantically out of her mouth. “All we have to do is survive until—”

“Glinda—”

“They can’t make us do anything. If it’s just the two of us left, they can’t make us—”

“They’ll kill us.”

“You don’t know that!” She twists out from Elphaba’s embrace and tries to stand up, but the cut in her side screams in protest, forcing her back to her knees. Glinda winces and presses her hand to it. “We’ve survived this much. We can survive this. We can run now, we can—”

“Glinda, stop.” Elphaba takes her free hand and holds it tight between her own. Glinda looks up and falls still in her gaze.

“No.” Her voice breaks and she sways, but Elphaba hugs her close before the rest of her gives out. “ _No_.”

“It’s okay,” Elphaba whispers, stroking her hair. “We’ve known all along that time isn’t on our side. We can’t change that now.”

Glinda swallows a cry and buries her face into Elphaba’s chest. “How are you not afraid?”

“Are you kidding?” Elphaba lets out a shaky laugh. “I’m terrified. But you’re the one who always said that this time is ours, no matter how short it is. I don’t regret anything. Do you?” She places her fingers beneath Glinda’s chin and lifts her head up so their eyes meet. “Do you?” she asks again, almost too soft to hear.

Glinda shakes her head. “No. Not with you.”

Elphaba leans forward and presses their foreheads together. They sit there, huddled together beneath their blanket, breathing each other’s air.

Glinda tries to imagine what they look like right now—not to the Emerald City, but to her family. To Ama Clutch. She’s filthy, bleeding and covered in mud, her hair a tangled mess. No doubt she’s lost weight, and the bags under her eyes must be horrifying. She left Pertha Hills confident and beautiful and strong, and now here she is, wounded and shivering in the middle of a snowstorm.

But she doesn’t feel weak or ugly. Not in Elphaba’s arms. And if there is anyone who can see that, it’s Ama Clutch. Glinda thinks back to their last conversation. She had been so sure that she was going to win, and now she doesn’t even want to. She understands what Ama was trying to tell her now. She wishes they could have had a proper goodbye.

Still, she doesn’t regret volunteering. Glinda gazes out at the storm, wondering if there are cameras on them right now, and if Ama is watching her, if she understands. If she’s proud.

“What happens now?” Glinda asks after a while. Elphaba doesn’t say anything, but she grabs her hand and tangles their fingers together, and that’s answer enough.

Thunder crashes in the distance. Glinda jumps and leans back a little. The sound continues, rumbling and echoing on all sides. The ground beneath them trembles.

Glinda turns in Elphaba’s arms and peers out into the storm. They can’t see anything—not even the flashes of lightning.

“That doesn’t sound like thunder,” Elphaba says slowly.

“No. I think it’s rockslides. A lot of them, all around the valley.” Glinda leans further into Elphaba. “But…why?”

“They’re closing us in,” Elphaba guesses. “They want us all in one place for the end.”

Almost as she says it, the wind picks up and the snow starts falling thicker. Glinda swallows hard.

“You think we should get moving again?” she asks in a whisper.

Something growls nearby. It’s faint enough that it could just be the wind, but both girls are on their feet in an instant. Elphaba nods and they take off running, leaving the blanket and all the rest of their supplies without a second thought.

They run without knowing what direction they’re going in, although she could easily venture a guess. The snow crunches beneath their boots, and Glinda swears it’s getting louder the further they go.

She thinks something shifts in front of them. Glinda narrows her eyes, trying to see better through the thick snowfall, but everything blurs together in the storm. Still, the hair on the back of her neck stands up, and she digs her feet into the snow, pulling Elphaba to a stop with her.

The mountain lion growls just before it leaps at them. Apparently that’s enough warning for Elphaba, because she jumps in front of Glinda and shoves her arms out with a cry. Flames shoot out of her palms, brighter and hotter than even that day in the training room, so long ago. They hear a sort of yelp and a hiss, and Glinda thinks she sees the cat retreat a little.

Another growl sounds behind them. Glinda spins around, but she’s all but useless. She grabs a stone from the ground and holds it up, ready to throw. She’s shaking again, feeling weak and panicky at Elphaba’s side.

Elphaba, though—Elphaba is no such thing. She turns to face the new threat and raises her arm, casting more flames. Her brow is furrowed and her teeth are bared slightly. She looks powerful, fierce, unstoppable.

A third mountain lions jumps down from above, dodging the flames and landing behind Elphaba. Glinda ducks around her and throws the stone, hitting it soundly on the jaw. It stumbles and shakes its head, and Glinda grabs Elphaba and starts backing away from the creatures now closing in on them. Elphaba aims for the ground, starting little bursts of fire that keep the mountain lions back long enough for them to get some distance. Glinda grabs more stones from the ground, throwing them whenever one braves the flames long enough to get close.

It’s not enough. Elphaba throws one of them back with a burst of energy, but her shoulders are starting to sag. Her face is turning grey and the fires she cast begin to flicker out. She sways a little and Glinda stops them, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her up. She throws the last of her stones at the closest mountain lion, but it hits at the shoulder and bounces off harmlessly.

Elphaba is completely drained. Glinda can feel her leaning heavily on her, breathing against her hair. She swallows hard and holds her close, waiting for one of the mountain lions to make that last move.

It never comes. The creature closest to them stops. It stares at them for a moment, and for the first time Glinda can see how much intelligence fills its eyes.

It turns and leaves, the other two quickly following suit.

Elphaba turns in her arms, looking behind them. “Glinda,” she breathes. “We’re at the Cornucopia.”

Glinda closes her eyes. Of course they are. That’s why the mountain lions left. Their job is done. Now it’s all up to the remaining tributes. She opens her eyes and follows Elphaba’s gaze. They’re standing at the edge of the forest, just outside the snowy clearing. She hears a shout on the wind—it could be Avaric or Fiyero, it could be pain or triumph, she doesn’t know. There’s no cannon.

Everyone is close. This really is it. Glinda tilts her head up. She thinks that maybe, somehow, just for a moment, the wind and snow will vanish and the sky will clear and she’ll be able to see the brilliant, dancing colors one more time.

But when she looks up, there is nothing. Of course there’s nothing.

“Glinda.”

She doesn’t turn toward Elphaba. She can’t.

The storm continues around them, and any minute now Avaric or Fiyero will find them. Once again, Glinda’s thoughts rebel against her, searching desperately for a way out. Maybe they can run away from the Cornucopia without being caught, and maybe they can fight past the mountain lions, and maybe they can make it through the remnants of the rockslides, and maybe, somehow, Elphaba can use magic to get past the force field, and maybe—

But it’s all useless. She’s wounded and Elphaba is exhausted. Even if they manage to make it out of the arena, they have no food or blanket or weapons. They don’t even know where in Oz they are.

Her fingers dig into Elphaba’s jacket. They’re at the Cornucopia. If Glinda can find a weapon—if she can grit her teeth through the pain in her head and her side and keep fighting—maybe she can protect her. She can make sure that Elphaba survives, that she’s the one who goes home safely.

“Glinda.”

She finally looks at Elphaba, meeting her soft gaze. _Don’t leave me,_ Elphaba had said—and suddenly, with a fierce, painful certainty, Glinda knows that she can’t. She doesn’t want to. Not in this moment, or the next, or ever. And as she searches Elphaba’s face, she knows the feeling is mutual. It always has been.

Glinda wraps her arms around Elphaba and leans up on her toes, bringing their lips together, and her raging thoughts are finally silenced.

It’s not a deep kiss. It’s chaste and sweet and lasts only a second before Glinda pulls away and tucks her face into the crook of Elphaba’s neck. She squeezes her eyes shut and doesn’t care—barely even notices—when the tears start to fall.

They hold each other close, and for the first time all night, Glinda stops shivering. She and Elphaba fall still, silent, comfortable enough that, for just one moment, the rest of Oz fades away.


End file.
